


Candy Canes And Silver Lanes

by green_feelings



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Advent Calendar, Canon, Christmas Ficlets, Ficlet Collection, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-01
Updated: 2013-12-25
Packaged: 2018-01-03 03:36:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 23,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1065288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/green_feelings/pseuds/green_feelings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daily updated ficlets of about 500-1000 words for December 2013. Each prompted by one word. Canon (or what my headcanon makes out of it, anyway). Set between December 2010 and December 2013, in no chronological order.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. New

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, I've been struggling a bit with writing. And this really is just the best solution. I have so much fun working on these small ficlets. I really hope you guys will enjoy this! 
> 
> Basically, this is a lot of sugery fluff, mixed with slight angst, and lots of cheesy romance. 
> 
> Big up to my lovely betas for this project: [Kara](http://decisions-and-revisions.tumblr.com/), [Tara](http://boyfriendsandbandshirts.tumblr.com/) and [Megan](http://only-loveisallmaroon.tumblr.com/)! Send them Christmas greetings and showers of love :) They deserve them!
> 
> That said, enjoy the read! ♥

It was their first proper date.

Louis couldn't say he was overly experienced, so he felt rather nervous about the day. Whatever it was between him and Harry was still not clear to either of them, but it made Louis’ heart race, pounding loudly inside his chest. Regardless of that feeling being nameless, it was simply there, getting Louis excited, each and every time.

He couldn't speak for Harry, of course, but for Louis, it had never been like that before. They had only known each other for several months, but those months had been flying by with every experience they had made at The X Factor.

It was December now, they had just lost in the final of the show, and Christmas was approaching in huge steps. Going back home had been nice, had felt really good, but being separated from the boys had felt too soon, forced, wrong.

Louis missed all of them, and keeping in contact via text messages wasn't exactly the same as having them around. Zayn always forgot to reply and Liam's spelling was so bad, Louis didn't know what he was on about half of the time. Niall's messages mostly consisted of one word.

It wasn't the same as being around them. Typing text messages was an effort, and his jokes weren't funny anymore by the time he had typed them out.

Harry was different, though. He shared every single one of his thoughts with Louis. And although Louis would usually be annoyed by anyone sending him texts every two minutes, he wasn't annoyed with Harry. It was comforting, reassuring even. Sometimes, late at night, they would talk on the phone or even get around to skype.

During one of those conversations, they had agreed on meeting today. They both had time off, and Louis actually couldn't think of a better way to spend the day than meeting Harry for a casual date. A real date. Tentatively, Harry had asked if going Christmas shopping together would be a date. Louis only had heard his voice, but he had imagined Harry blushing, looking all insecure and small; just how he always got when he was nervous.

It had taken Louis a moment to catch his breath, because -- he had only been on dates with girls, and he had only just broken up with Hannah. Everything was quite new, and confusing, but there was no question that this new feeling was good.

So he had told Harry that it was, indeed, a date.

Louis wondered if Harry would remember his birthday -- since it actually wasn't that hard to remember. Most people were able to keep it in mind; the date was pretty significant, after all. If Harry would remember, Louis wondered whether he'd think of something to give to Louis, too. Wrap it up in pretty paper, maybe, with a little bow on it.

However, that was still four days away.

Louis was standing in front of Costa, and although he could have gone in to wait for Harry to arrive, he had decided to rather wait outside. He always felt weird, sitting alone in a café. It was something Harry could do, and for him, he would just look like the adorable quirk head he was, drinking a cup of tea and scribbling something in one of his journals.

Louis on the other hand would look as if someone had forgotten him right there; as if he had been stood up on a date.

"Louis," he heard Harry's voice then, and saw him approaching from the other side of the road. "Lou! Hey."

Smiling, Louis turned to him, hands in his pockets and half of his face hidden in his scarf. It hadn't snowed yet, cold mist fogged up the air instead, and Harry's curly hair looked fuzzy around the edges. His face was glowing, literally, pale skin, pink lips and red cheeks a stark contrast to the grey city of Manchester.

"Hi," Louis greeted him, as Harry stopped just a metre away.

Louis could have sworn the world stopped spinning for a second, as Harry just looked at him, uncertain but so, so hopeful, with his big, green eyes the only colour Louis could really see. He stared right back at Harry.

God, Louis had really missed him.

After a moment, Louis’ smile grew wider, Harry's face relaxed and he smiled back.

With one step, Louis was in Harry's space and he pulled him in, trying to feel some of Harry's familiar warmth through the many layers of clothing between them. What he found instead was the smell of apple shampoo and cheap, musky cologne.

It didn’t make a difference, Louis thought, when Harry's arms came around his waist and pulled him closer, while Harry buried his nose in Louis' scarf. Warmth spread from Louis’ chest, thick and heavy in his veins, rolling through his whole body.

It was all so very new, but then again, Louis had grown so familiar to the new feeling between them already, it didn't really matter anymore.


	2. Broken

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day two! This is a bit angsty. I hope you like it anyway! 
> 
> Enjoy! ♥

Harry lay in his bed, staring up at the ceiling. He blinked slowly, then inhaled and closed his eyes.

Ten seconds later, he was staring at the same spot again, the white colour painted in darkness and faint moonlight. It looked grey, dull, and yet Harry couldn't tear his gaze away.

It was shortly after three in the morning and Harry wasn't sure it was actually the jetlag keeping him awake. He constantly turned to his left side, found the bed empty and thought of theirs back home in their flat, thought about Louis probably sleeping on the right side. Harry really hoped Louis would still lie on Harry's side when he wasn't there to sleep next to him.

Truth was, he hadn't heard from Louis all day. And that made Harry nervous, anxious that when they had said goodbye yesterday, Louis' whispered "We're okay" had been a lie. Louis hadn't even sent a message that he had made it home safely. Harry knew, of course, that Louis had gotten home -- Twitter had displayed all the pictures taken by paparazzi at Heathrow.

In those pictures, Louis had looked so broken. Carrying his enormous lion through the mass of fans, eyes red, face pale, lips looking blue and bitten. Harry had felt oddly helpless seeing those pictures. It hurt; hurt to know that it was his fault Louis looked so terribly broken.

Since Louis hadn't answered any calls or messages, Harry had called up Liam, hoping that maybe all of it looked worse than it actually was.

"He was in a right state," Liam had told him. "Had a few drinks and then got all miserable and snappy. Security had a tough time with him because of that stupid plush toy you've given him. You know how he gets when he argues."

"Yeah," Harry had closed his eyes, trying to keep calm.

"He fell asleep cuddled up to it. I took a photo for you, just didn't yet get around to send it." Liam's voice had sounded slightly amused, before he had added, "He's in your flat, catching up on sleep. Don't worry, Harry."

"Thanks, Liam," Harry had said, quietly. "I'll keep trying to reach him."

"He'll call you when he wakes up," Liam had reassured him, before wishing Harry a good night and telling him to take care.

That had been four hours ago.

Harry heaved a long sigh, closing his eyes.

They snapped open again, as his mobile made a vibrating sound from the night stand. Harry had his hand on the device within seconds and opened the unread message from Louis.

_'I'm good. will call you in the morning. like, when it's morning for you. x'_

Harry stared at the words for several long seconds. The bright light of the display hurt his eyes and left them burning, watering up a little, and the words were too cold, too impersonal, too _not Louis_.

Harry pressed the Call button and after three rings, Louis finally picked up.

"I said I'd call you, didn't I?"

"The fuck?" Harry leaned against the headboard and buried his fingers in the white fabric of the hotel's duvet. "I've been trying to reach you for days."

"I've only been back in London for _one_ day," Louis argued.

"Felt like days," Harry mumbled. "Too long, anyway."

Louis was quiet for a moment. "Stop worrying, okay?"

Harry laughed humourlessly. "That's easy for you to say, after you hit the ignore button for a whole fucking day."

"Really, Harold, as much as I like fighting with you, now is probably not the time for that."

"I'm just..." Several seconds passed before Harry found the right words. "You said we're okay."

"We are," Louis assured him.

"You don't act okay," Harry argued. "And I hate that I can't even do a damn thing about it."

Louis took a deep breath; Harry could imagine his chest rising, a grey washed-out shirt stretching with the motion and Louis' muscles clearly visible through the thin fabric. "It wouldn’t help the situation if I told you how much I hate you being there and having to do that shit, would it? Wouldn't help if I told you how much I miss you, or how helpless I feel just sitting here and having to watch."

Harry swallowed, a lump in his throat making that task a lot more difficult than it should have been. "Lou..."

"I know," Louis simply said. "It's not your fault, and not like you chose this."

"I hate being here with someone who isn't you."

"You’ve got your own room, though, don't you?" There was an insecure undertone to Louis' voice. Harry hated it; hated that it was there in the first place. Louis had absolutely no reason to be insecure, worried or jealous.

Harry ran a hand over his face. "You don't expect a serious answer, do you?"

Louis laughed gently. "See. We're okay. I told you."

"I just want you to call me, okay?" Harry licked his lips, knowing Louis wouldn't like to hear what was coming. "You tend to think you're a burden, unloading your worries on me. But that's what I signed up for, you know? I can take it, Lou, and I want to. I want to be there for you."

He waited for an answer, and got nervous when the line remained silent for several seconds. Maybe he had made Louis angry because Harry was once again too worried, maybe Louis was upset because Harry once again had driven him into a corner, maybe---

"I'll call you before I go to bed today," Louis said then, voice sounding a little suffocated.

"Did you even sleep last night?" Harry asked.

"You're not sleeping now, either."

Harry pressed his lips together, risking another step. "You can lie on my side of the bed, if you want to."

Louis let out a bark of laughter. "As if I needed your permission,” he teased Harry, and it made him feel a lot lighter. “You can sleep now, babe. I'm fine, yeah?"

"Okay," Harry shifted to lie back down.

"Sleep well, Harry," Louis told him.

"Take care."

A short pause, then Louis said, "You, too. Good night."

The connection was cut and Harry put his mobile on the nightstand, rolling over beneath the heavy duvet. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, feeling calmer now. Still, he found himself staring at the ceiling just a few minutes later.

He jumped slightly, when his mobile started ringing again. Quickly, Harry picked it up, answering the call.

"I told you to go to sleep and instead, I can feel your disturbing vibes of worries all the way to London, Harry."

Harry laughed, pressing a palm to his chest. "Yeah, sorry about that."

"No more vibes reaching me here, got it?" Louis demanded.

"Got it," Harry confirmed.

"Promise."

Harry smiled to himself, closing his eyes. "Promise."

"Alright," Louis murmured, before he added, "I love you."

"You, too," Harry answered, voice soft.

The connection was cut again, and Harry kept lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling. He did feel a little better, but with the prospect of the upcoming days, he couldn't quite find it within himself to fall asleep peacefully. He kept tossing and turning for the rest of the night.

Louis probably knew, but he didn't call again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much for reading! :)


	3. Strong

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Third day comes with a reference to one of strongest love songs ever written ;) 
> 
> Enjoy! ♥

Louis opened the door to their dressing room, stopping when an odd smell instantly hit his nose, making him scrunch up his face.

"What's that?"

"Niall burnt some plastic," Liam explained, sitting in front of a mirror and meeting Louis' gaze in the reflection. Lou applied something to his hair, ghosting her palms over the tips. Louis really didn't know what exactly she was doing because Liam's hair was almost non-existent; so short that a styling wasn't necessary, wasn't possible. Still, Lou insisted she styled Liam's hair anyway.

"Can’t leave you kids alone for just one minute," Louis mumbled, shaking his head. He walked over to one of the sofas, where Niall lay with his eyes closed. Louis dropped his football, before he nudged Niall's feet out of his way with his knee. He had been out for almost an hour, playing football in the backyard of the venue, and there was no way Louis would move from this sofa before he absolutely had to go on stage.

Caroline could get creative, figuring out how to dress him up before that. He had faith she would find a way.

"Lou," he demanded until she looked at him. "Use some hairspray on Liam? That smell is disgusting."

Lou laughed, as she turned back to apply powder to Liam's face. "Liam certainly does not need hairspray. But you can sit over here in a minute, and we'll use some on you."

Louis wrinkled his nose. "Not moving. I'll just leave my beanie on."

"Louis Tomlinson, I'm being paid to style your hair flawlessly. Wearing a beanie is full of flaws." She shot him an angry look, and Louis figured that Caroline getting him dressed wouldn't be the only problem to solve.

The door opened in that moment and Zayn peeked in, scanning the room with his eyes, before they landed on Louis.

No, oh no. "Ask Niall," Louis said immediately, before Zayn could even get a word out. Niall grunted from beside him, turning over and curling up.

Zayn furrowed his brows. "Louis." His tone was serious, which made Louis tense up. "D'you have a moment?"

That could only mean one thing. There was Liam, being styled for their gig later, while Niall lay on the sofa trying to catch up on some sleep. And Zayn, all cautious and looking worried was standing in the doorway.

Harry wasn't there.

"Sure," Louis was off the sofa to follow Zayn out of the room within seconds. As soon as he had closed the door behind himself, he looked down the corridor. "Did he have a panic attack?"

"Yeah," Zayn answered. "Just found him in the toilets. He asked me not to tell anyone, but I figured you're an exception."

Louis nodded. "Thanks, Zayn," he mumbled, before he dashed down the corridor to the toilets.

It hadn't happened in so long. Harry had been doing so very well lately, hadn't gotten any stage fright in months. At least none Louis knew of. He wondered how many times Harry had panicked like today and had managed to keep it a secret from all of them. It hurt a little to know that Harry apparently didn't trust Louis enough to come to him when he felt weak.

He reached the door and caught his breath, inhaled deeply, before he pushed it open.

The room was quiet, artificial light from above the mirrors illuminating the white tiles on the wall. Louis stood in front of two stalls, doors painted in ugly dark green.

"Haz?" he asked tentatively.

It was quiet for a second, before a low, raspy voice answered from the left stall. "Zayn is a fucking traitor."

Louis gently pushed the door open to find Harry crouched on the floor, back against the wall and his face pale. "He didn't tell anyone but me."

Harry nodded, dull gaze fixed on the ground.

"Hey," Louis mumbled and let go of the door, so it fell closed behind him. He knelt down and ran his knuckles over Harry's cold cheek. "What's wrong, love?"

"Got a little scared," Harry answered, shuddering slightly, as he lifted his face. His eyes looked almost grey in the dim light of the stall. "Can't get it out of my system."

"It's okay," Louis assured him. He slid into the space next to Harry and pulled him in, laying Harry's head on his shoulder. Louis felt his lashes flutter against his own skin, when Harry closed his eyes. “Why didn’t you come to me?” 

“Couldn’t find you,” Harry murmured, dragging the words out and he slowly added, “Couldn’t stay in the room with the boys.” 

“I’m here now. We're gonna breathe together, yeah? In, out," Louis advised, matching his breath to Harry's. "In, and out."

Harry choked on a laugh. "I'm not giving birth, you idiot."

"Shut up and breathe," Louis squeezed Harry's shoulder and they fell silent, breathing together, rhythmic and steady. Harry shifted closer, his fingers curling into the fabric of Louis' t-shirt and Louis pressed his lips against Harry's hair. It smelled faintly of apples and the products Lou used on them.

"You're magic, Lou," Harry murmured, and Louis could feel Harry’s heart beating calm and steadily against his side. "I just need to see you to feel stronger."

Louis smiled. "Sap."

"I'm serious," Harry answered. "I'm always so much weaker when I'm not with you."

Certainly, Harry would feel Louis' heart skip a beat. He didn't really care, though. It was okay; it was okay that Harry knew he could make Louis' heart skip beats.

Louis wanted to return the words, tell Harry how weak he felt whenever he couldn't be with him, whenever Harry wasn't by his side. He wanted Harry to understand that it wasn't only him, that Louis felt exactly the same; that maybe, Louis couldn't show it the way Harry could, but that he needed Harry right there next to him to be strong.

"Well, good for you then that I'll be right there with you on stage," he answered instead. Harry laughed and Louis felt his heart unclench a little, when he spotted the colour in Harry's cheeks and the green sparkle in his eyes.

One day, he would find the right words to let Harry know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!


	4. Storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Although it's very short, this has been my favourite yet! :) 
> 
> I hope you'll like it ♥

Harry was shaken out of his sleep by an odd noise. He furrowed his brows slightly, refusing to open his eyes. He could tell that the room was still dark, so morning hadn’t come yet -- which was a relief, because morning meant training at the gym. So instead of waking up, he shifted closer to Louis' body and smiled when Louis turned to him, a hand reaching out to find Harry's skin.

There was a growling sound again and Harry smiled, patting his hand over Louis' stomach, before he realised that the sound came from outside the window. He lifted his head and noticed the rain tapping against the dark window, leaving the glass spotted with glittering drops.

Pale blue light filled the room for a split second before it fell dark again and thunder followed, slightly muted by the thick walls.

Harry focused back on Louis, his face only visible for Harry when he was this close. Dark lashes fanned out against Louis' cheeks and his lips were slightly opened, breath coming in constant, even puffs. His fingertips were still grazing Harry's arm, a reassuring touch. They rarely slept all cuddled up anymore, but they still reached out for each other in their sleep.

"Lou," Harry whispered, when the next thunder rolled through the clouds, shaking up the world outside. His voice was completely drowned out by the noise and Harry shifted closer to Louis, pressing his body into Louis' side. "Louis," he repeated louder and pressed his lips to Louis' cheek, lips lingering over the warm skin.

Louis stirred and sighed slightly before he turned and moved his hand down Harry's arm to his hip. "Hm?"

Another flash of lightning illuminated the room, followed by deep growling and Louis winced, head snapping up. Harry could see his eyes were wide open as Louis stared out the window.

"There's a storm," Harry said quietly.

"You don’t say," Louis answered dryly. He rolled back over and moved Harry's arm to nuzzle against his chest. "Can't believe you woke me for this."

Harry smiled and shifted a leg between Louis'. He was wearing jogging bottoms and the fabric was a little rough against Harry's naked skin. It felt familiar. "I love when you get like this."

"You enjoying my fears -- that's a kink we need to have a talk about." Louis' voice was raspy, the words coming a little lagged. His breath was warm, ghosting over Harry's collarbone.

Wind howled, angry rain drummed against the window and thunder added deep beats, while Harry felt all warm and secure under the duvet, Louis in his arms. He didn't mind storms at all, but Harry knew that Louis hated it. He didn't really get scared as such but he got greatly uncomfortable and a little clingy, needy for closeness.

And that was definitely something Harry enjoyed about storms.

"I could move over into my bed," Harry simply answered, referring to the second bed in the hotel room.

"Fuck off, Styles. You menace." Despite his words, Louis' tone was gentle, his thumb softly rubbing over the dip of Harry's waist. "You're not going anywhere."

Louis winced again, when another loud thunder growled and Harry couldn't help the grin. "Nah, not going anywhere," he agreed and combed his fingers through Louis' hair. Feathery touches tickled his skin, when Louis closed his eyes, his lashes swiping over Harry's neck.

Yeah, Harry definitely enjoyed storms.

"Not going anywhere," he repeated quietly, before he followed Louis back to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!


	5. Mirror

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little goodie for today: Niall's POV :D 
> 
> Have fun!! ♥

The first time Niall had noticed had been on stage.

He had stood on the left side, Liam right next to him, and Zayn had moved up the stairs to the platform. Harry and Louis were both on the right side of the stage, the song almost over. Niall had lowered his microphone and his eye had been caught by Harry and Louis moving in the same moment -- and also in the same manner.

He hadn't been intimidated by it that very moment, but it had tipped him off to look closer after that incident. After that, he noticed it all the time: Harry and Louis were actually mirroring each other.

He didn't think it happened consciously, but rather instinctively. He had of course noticed before that they complemented each other and were capable of creepy stuff like finishing off each other's thoughts. But this was different.

It did not only happen on stage (and Niall began to notice them moving in sync at some point of almost every show. They didn't do that -- One Direction _did not_ move in sync on any occasion!), but it also happened a lot during interviews and even in their time off.

Niall watched Harry and Louis mirroring each other when they sat down on stools, postures exactly the same while the announcer talked, and both even looked at her with the same expression. Harry had his hands folded, arms rested on his thighs. Louis sat in front of him but still, a few seconds later, he fell into the same pose.

On stage, they spun around at exactly the same second -- and although Niall tried to reason that to the beat of the song, he also saw that neither Liam nor Zayn moved the same way. Again, even though Harry and Louis constantly mirrored each other's moves, neither of them seemed to notice.

When they were wide awake in a foreign country, sitting in the huge lounge of the tour bus and chatting all night because none of them could find sleep, Niall often observed them moving their heads in a similar mannerism. Someone would crack a joke and Louis moved his head just in the same second as Harry, at the same angle, their expressions identical.

On a rainy morning, in another hotel, Niall was the last to join their table. Lou and Tom were busy getting Lux to eat some more. Zayn was on his phone, most likely texting Perrie, while Liam looked more asleep than awake. Paul sat at the head of the table and quietly ate his eggs.

Harry and Louis sat next to each other and when Niall laid his eyes on them, both lifted their fork, before taking a bite from a slice of toast. Harry put his fork down in the same moment as Louis and they each reached out for a glass of orange juice, gulping down half of it.

"You are so damn creepy," Niall pointed out, as they sat down their glasses.

Louis lifted a brow, while Harry frowned at him. It was reassuring to see them do something that wasn't in sync.

"Like fucking twins," Niall explained. "It's creepy."

"It is," Zayn agreed from his left without raising his head.

"What are you talking about?" Harry wanted to know.

Paul gently bumped his fist against Louis' shoulder. "You guys are like mirrors sometimes."

Harry and Louis exchanged a look and Harry's confused expression turned into a grin when Louis winked at him. He got that look, gaze fixed on Louis’ eyes, and Niall knew those two were communicating without words. 

"It's like you're my mirror," Liam sang from the other side of the table, suddenly awake.

"As long as you're not yet looking like each other," Niall commented. "Imagine Louis with Hazza's stupid hair."

"Hey," Harry protested in a lazy drawl.

They were a crazy cliché out of a Justin Timberlake song, and while Niall hadn't lied when he had said he found it creepy, he also found it reassuring. It was good to turn and see Louis and Harry in sync in every move, complementing each other in everything they did -- like a steady centre of this fast moving life they led.

When they reached out in the exact same moment to take the last slice of melon from a plate, Niall laughed. They stared each other down for a moment, before Louis started -- as expected -- to come up with ridiculous reasons why he deserved the last piece. Sometimes, them being actual mirrors didn't only mean they were the perfect cliché couple.

And actually that made them even better, Niall though, as he snagged the slice of melon. Harry and Louis were too busy fighting to even notice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, I hope you liked it :)


	6. Breathless

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All the while writing this, I had "Beethoven" by Union J stuck in my head. Boy bands, I'll just have all of 'em. 
> 
> Enjoy the fun :)

The lights were blinding Louis, screams in the audience loud in his ears as the band played the last notes of _What Makes You Beautiful_. Liam was steady on his right, an arm firmly around Louis' shoulders. Harry was warm, radiating heat, on Louis' left.

Louis had his hand on the back Harry's neck, fingers tangled in the soft curls of his hair, while Harry's arm was slung around Louis' waist, pulling him further from Liam and closer to Harry. His head was so close, Louis' lips almost landed on Harry's when he turned his face. For a moment, they stared at each other, and leaning in to close the distance was tempting -- very tempting.

Harry licked his lips before he turned back to face the audience, curls hiding his eyes, so Louis couldn't read them. His lips were obscenely illuminated by the light, shining red, glistening wet.

Louis' breath hitched, getting caught in his throat, leaving him breathless.

They stumbled off stage, Liam's arm letting go of Louis, but Harry's remained in place, fingers clenching Louis' white shirt.

As soon as they were off stage, Harry spun Louis around and pressed him against a wall, lips instantly capturing Louis'. He crowded into Louis' space, hips aligning perfectly and his fingers digging into Louis' waist. His mouth was feverish, breath hot on Louis' lips, as Harry kissed him breathlessly.

Louis was still high on adrenaline, the excitement of being on stage and performing rushed like heady wine through his veins and Louis felt oversensitive, his skin burning up where Harry was touching, his lips tickling with every swipe against Harry’s.

Harry took away his breath, every little bit of it left in Louis' lungs, and it made him weak in the knees, clutching at Harry's arms, desperately kissing him back.

"Get a room," someone yelled -- Louis was rather certain it was Josh -- and Harry pulled away, resting his forehead against Louis'. He licked his lips and Louis knew he went a little cross-eyed as he watched the motion. Harry looked rather smug when Louis focussed back on his eyes. He breathed heavily, chest rising with every inhalation, as if he had run a marathon. It felt a bit as though they really had. Louis was breathing just as heavily.

Without a word, Louis ran a hand up into Harry's curls and pulled him in again, angled his head to meet Harry’s lips. Harry came easily, fingers sliding up Louis' chest, tapping gently against his skin. The kiss was much calmer, the rush in Louis' veins slowing, becoming heavier and thicker. He sighed and ran his tongue over Harry's bottom lip, and grinned into the kiss, when Harry softly bit Louis’.

"Care to change?" Harry asked, voice low and raspy, only audible for Louis.

"Not gonna get out of these clothes to put on something different, no," Louis answered, just as quietly.

Harry pressed his lips together and nodded. His gaze dropped to Louis' mouth and he ground his hips tentatively against Louis' just once, in one, slick move.

Louis gasped quietly, eyes locked on Harry's, and his breath got caught in his throat again, leaving him breathless.

He was certain it wouldn't be the last time tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you liked it ♥


	7. Pain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There were so many possibilities for this prompt. I decided for the least angsty one ;) 
> 
> Enjoy the read! ♥

"You little shits!" Louis yelled as he picked raisins out of his hair. He glared at Liam, throwing them back in his direction. Liam ducked and moved over to another corner of the room. "I'm going to pay you back in spades!"

Niall laughed his head off, cheeks red. "How exactly, Tommo? You can't even move from that sofa!"

"You'll be first," Louis threatened. "I'll be back on my feet in Dublin. In Dublin, Niall, think of it."

Niall just threw another nut, and although Louis tilted his torso to duck from it, the nut hit his cheek. Laughing, Niall joined Liam's corner and met him with a high-five.

"Okay, that's it," Louis declared and got up. His knee was sore and the pain pulsed through his whole body, but Louis decided to ignore it. He limped towards them, unable to strain his left knee too much, so his pace was incredibly slow.

Liam had his fingers buried in the bowl of nuts and raisins again, and Louis knew what was coming before he even had a chance to react. Niall and Liam both threw handfuls of nuts at him, laughing wildly, apparently having the time of their lives. Louis shielded his face with one arm, nuts hitting his head and chest, before they hit the ground.

He was about to swear at Liam and Niall when he took another step and felt one of the nuts beneath his sole, digging into his flesh. Pulling back, Louis lost his balance, his poorly knee unable to hold his weight. He stumbled, yelping helplessly, and instead of panicking that he was falling over he felt rather embarrassed about the noise.

Strong hands grabbed his arms, and before Louis knew what was happening, his face hit someone’s chest. He immediately relaxed, because he had had his cheek squished to that chest countless times and the scent of the plain white t-shirt was as familiar as one of his own. An arm slung around Louis' waist and helped steady him.

"What's going on here?" Harry asked. Louis noticed Zayn was there right next to Harry, hands still extended. Liam and Niall had come out of their corner too, standing close. “He’s not supposed to be up.”

"You hold them, Zayn," Louis demanded, as he held on to Harry for support. "And you help me stand straight, Haz, while I beat them up."

Liam let out a bark of laughter. "We really should have just let you fall over."

"You _did_ ," Louis argued. "I only see Harry holding me up."

Harry swiped a thumb over the small of Louis' back. He completely ignored that discussion when he said, "The doctor told you not to stand up, unless it's absolutely necessary."

"It was absolutely necessary," Louis glared at Liam and Niall. "They were throwing nuts at me."

Harry furrowed his brows before he looked at Zayn. They exchanged a look that said everything, then Harry added, "You guys should have told us!" He complained.

Louis growled and detached himself from Harry's side. Traitors. All of them were despicable traitors, even his own boyfriend. He clenched his teeth when he made his way back to the sofa, his knee in pain. It was throbbing and having stood for only those few minutes had already been too straining.

Without any warning, he was lifted up and Louis made another one of those embarrassing noises, clutching to the arm that had come around his waist.

"You're not supposed to walk so much, babe," Harry said calmly, arms tight around Louis' middle. He carried him over to the couch and sat down first before he pulled Louis onto his lap. Louis threw a look back at the other three boys and found them occupied with cleaning the floor, picking up the scattered nuts and raisins..

"I'm not sitting on your lap, Styles," Louis complained, squirming.

Harry chuckled and just held on, pulling Louis closer to his chest. "You already are, love."

Louis hissed and then fell silent when a stinging pain jolted through his leg caused by the motion. He tried to redirect the pain by digging his fingers into his thigh. Harry covered his hand with his own and when Louis turned his face to him, he looked worried.

"Is it still that bad?"

Louis shrugged. "Not bad enough to stop me from hunting all of you down."

Smiling, Harry squeezed Louis' waist, dropping a kiss to his shoulder. "I'll carry you."

Harry really knew how to act like an innocent choirboy. "You wanted to join the harassment," Louis reminded him.

Harry shrugged and tangled his fingers with Louis'. "That's just because I really like nuts."

"That's not news," Louis mumbled and watched Zayn throw out the nuts he had picked up while Niall ate every other one.

"Should I kiss it better?" Harry asked quietly.

"You already tried that last night, Harry," Louis noted, but he couldn't help the smile tugging on his lips upon the memory of Harry grazing his lips over Louis' knee. He had been gentle, brushing feathery kisses over the skin. It hadn't helped a single bit, but the gesture had been very endearing anyway.

"Come here," Harry demanded and leaned up so Louis wouldn't have to move too much to get closer and kiss him. When their mouths were just inches apart, Harry ran his fingers into Louis' hair and pulled back. He held a small hazelnut between thumb and forefinger, close in front of Louis' face.

"Harry Styles, you're not going to eat a nut you picked out of my hair," Louis warned him.

Harry just let the nut disappear into his mouth, displaying a lopsided grin and his dimpled cheek.

"You monkey," Louis teased him, but kissed Harry's forehead anyway. Harry pulled him closer and nuzzled his face against Louis' neck, dropping light kisses to his skin.

Louis had entirely forgotten about the pain in his knee.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so very much for reading! ♥


	8. Test

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maybe this one's a bit far-fetched *laugh* 
> 
> Enjoy ♥

It had all started out rather harmlessly.

Ever since he had been very young, Harry and Gemma had taken magazine tests, comparing their answers. His mother had always had subscriptions to various women's magazines and they had always been much more interesting than the teen magazines Gemma had bought.

_Which kind of spirit are you? Are you the perfect wife? Who's your ideal type of man?_ Granted, Harry had mostly just taken those test for amusement, but the results had always been rather fitting. He wouldn't ever be a wife, he probably didn't have a feminine spirit (although, Harry didn't rule it out completely. A feminine spirit didn't make you any less of a man) and at that time, he certainly hadn't looked for his perfect type of man. In retrospect, however, the results had always been quite spot-on.

_You're a spirit of the wind_ , it had always said, _balanced, easy-going, spontaneous, an inquisitive mind, adventurous, generous and naive_. All of that did fit Harry's character. It probably hadn't fitted him back then, when he had been young and uncertain of his aims. But through the years surviving in what could be considered the toughest business, Harry had figured that those traits described him rather well.

_Not quite the perfect wife, but always trying to be with the aim in sight_. Harry smirked to himself when he thought about that. Of course he wasn't married, but the way he lived with Louis didn't differ so much from the concept. It didn't _feel_ much different. He did try his best to be a perfect partner for Louis, but he often enough messed up. Once, he had planned out a romantic night for them and when he had carried Louis up the stairs, he had tripped over his own feet, stumbling and taking down both of them. It was the perfect analogy for Harry's part in their relationship.

He was more than lucky Louis seemed to be into clumsy romantics.

_Your ideal type of man is someone who complements you perfectly. You won’t fall for anyone less than your true soul mate, someone who completes you and who is the opposite and mirror of your spirit and mind simultaneously_. While Harry had found a description like that way too ambiguous back then, he was amazed by how that described his and Louis' connection correct to a dot.

For Harry, the results of magazine tests mainly turned out to be true, so he liked to take them whenever Lou or someone else left a magazine lying around. Of course he had told the other boys about his theory, but all of them had just laughed and teased him.

Louis had only taken him seriously when Harry had told him about how the tests about his ideal man were always true. He had told him in privacy, at night, when they had curled up on the sofa of the flat they had shared for more than a year.

Ever since then, Louis looked sceptical when Harry took one of those tests, but he wanted to know the results all the same. Sometimes he even was the one to make Harry take the tests.

"Harry," he said, as they were backstage of the Teen Awards, waiting for the show to start. Liam was listening to music, drumming his fingers along to the beat on the armrest of the sofa, Zayn was reading and Niall was gone.

Harry turned and saw Louis approaching with a magazine in his hand.

"This is the ultimate test you have to take," he said, opening the pages as he stopped right next to Harry. He saw his own face, plus the other four boys, on a pink background and a lot of colourful fields filled with green text.

Frowning, Harry read the headline out loud, "Find out which of the 1D boys is your ideal boyfriend."

Louis grinned and nodded. "Since you say those tests are always correct, the result of this one should be clear."

Zayn snorted and looked up at them, his glasses low on his nose. "This could end very awkwardly," he pointed out.

"I don't think so," Louis answered. "Harry claims he always gets the most fitting result in these tests."

"Um," Harry started, but swallowed the words when he looked at Louis' face. He was right -- the results always suited Harry. He took a pen and gestured for Louis to put the magazine to the table.

"You have to answer truthfully," Louis reminded him, as he slid into the space next to Harry.

Rolling his eyes, Harry read the first question. "I know, Lou."

While Harry answered the questions by circling the answers, Liam popped out the headphones from his ears and leaned in to watch Harry take the test, too. Zayn briefly told him why Harry was taking it in the first place and both of them snickered.

They probably didn't believe in it, but Harry was convinced those tests held quite some truth and helped figuring out one's own personality.

He answered the last question and started counting his points, doing the maths in his head. When he turned the page to check his result, he froze and his eyes widened.

"Oh please, don't let it be me," Liam groaned.

"Told you it's gonna be awkward," Zayn commented.

"Harry?" Louis simply asked.

"I got Niall," Harry said.

"Niall?" Louis sounded offended. "As in, _Niall_?"

Nodding, Harry looked at him, frowning slightly.

"Does that mean the one you were actually destined to be with is Niall?!" Louis picked up the magazine, going through Harry's answers, his brows knitted together.

"Louis, it's a test in a teen magazine," Zayn's voice carried an amused tone.

"But you said they're always right," Louis protested, raising his look back to Harry.

Harry could only shrug. "They usually are."

"Okay, we'll just pretend you've never taken this one. It's complete rubbish anyway." Louis threw the magazine in the general direction of the bin. "As Zayn said."

Biting his lip to hold back a grin, Harry nodded. "Never taken that one."

Liam shook his head and leaned against the backrest of the sofa, going through his iPod and Zayn picked up his book again, a bemused expression still plastered to his features. Harry tore his gaze from them and leaned in closer to Louis, a hand coming to rest on Louis' knee.

"I don't need a test in a teen magazine to confirm that I've got the right boy by my side," he said quietly, so only Louis would hear.

"Of course," Louis answered, and Harry knew he was trying hard to keep his expression indifferent.

"It's Niall, Lou," Harry emphasised. "He's straight."

"He probably hasn't figured it out," Louis argued. The shrug that followed looked unnatural.

Harry laughed quietly, stifling his chuckles with one hand. "Niall, Lou. He loves girls more than anyone I know."

Louis relaxed and Harry felt him lean a little closer. "Yeah, he does." He looked up, a small upset tilt still on his lips. "Fuck those tests."

"Fuck them," Harry agreed and pressed a short, sweet kiss to Louis' mouth.

"Hey, I checked out the catering! It’s huge, you guys should come and get some, too." Niall came into the room, bouncing with energy. 

Zayn and Liam barely acknowledged his presence by shaking their heads. 

Niall pointed with his thumb at the door. "They have bananas, Harry. You want a banana?"

"Sure," Harry answered. He remained sitting for a moment longer, plastered to Louis's side and staring at his face with a tiny smile on his lips. Louis looked back at him, eyes serious. 

With a reassuring pat to Louis' knee, Harry got up to follow Niall.

"Hey, Niall," Louis yelled after them, and Harry grinned, before Louis had even added, "keep your hands to yourself!"

Niall frowned, looking at Harry with a puzzled face. "What's he on about?"

"Nothing," Harry answered, smirking madly. "Just a bad test result."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There just has to be a reason for Louis hating Narry so much *g* 
> 
> Thanks so much for reading :)


	9. Heartless

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here comes some angst. Couldn't help it! 
> 
> I hope you'll like it anyway!

"No, I'm not gonna do this."

"Harry..."

"No, Louis. There is no way in fucking hell that I will put up with this. I'm not doing it."

"Haz."

"Fuck off with your stupid _Haz_." Harry took a step back when Louis further approached him. "How could you agree to this?"

"I had to. They didn't leave me much of a choice." Louis shrugged and laced his fingers to keep from reaching out to Harry. He wanted to pull Harry in and hold him close, soothe him with gentle touches and kisses, until Harry could calm down and tell Louis that everything was okay.

Unfortunately, nothing was okay and Louis wouldn't solve this problem with touches and kisses. It just wouldn't work.

"Why do I have to go, though?" Harry paced the room, shaking his head. "Why do they want me to tag along for that farce?"

"All of us are going, Harry," Louis repeated for what felt like the millionth time. "It would look weird if you were the only one who didn't come."

"I'm gonna give them _weird_ ," Harry promised. "And if I hear Liam say one more time that it's not much of a big deal, I will lose it. Like he'd be cool with it, if Danielle held some other dude's hand right in front of him."

Louis shrugged. "Well, they're not doing so well nowadays, anyway. So Liam probably wouldn't mind."

Harry stopped his pacing and glared at Louis. " _I_ mind. And I'm not gonna do that."

"It's just going to be a few hours at most, Harry," Louis tried again. It felt as if his insides were in knots, and for a moment he wondered what exactly he was trying to convince Harry of. Harry was right and everything Harry said was true.

Why was Louis arguing with him in the first place?

"That's not the point!" Harry ran his hands over his face, buried it in his palms for a moment and Louis just wanted to wrap him in his arms and save him from everything he had to go through. Hurting Harry had never been his intention. "I just wanted to go to those damn Niagara Falls with you, like every tourist does, and take a stupid photo in front of them, maybe one with the boys or the crew. Just us, like normal people. It's fucking unfair."

"Babe," Louis murmured, and couldn't help himself -- he had to touch Harry. He needed the reassurance of physical contact to make sure Harry really was still here with him. He seemed so far away, locked in his own shell and out of Louis' reach.

He didn't back away when Louis carefully wrapped his arms around him. Instead, Harry sagged against him, head heavy on Louis' shoulder.

"I want that photo for my album," he mumbled quietly. "It's not complete if I don't get a photo of every location."

Louis closed his eyes and buried his nose in Harry's hair. He thought of the album Harry had back home in their flat, a big green one with plenty of empty pages, only the first few filled yet. Harry had presented it to him proudly one warm, sunny afternoon in spring. It contained pictures from their trip to the Judge's House in Simon's Marabella Mansion, their ski trip to France, as well as a few they had taken around their promotional trips in Scotland and Wales.

"If we make it, we'll go so many places," Harry had said. "And I don't want to forget a single one, Lou. Going on an American Tour, we'll see all those stunning sights. Who knows if we'll ever get to go back there. So we should keep the memories in here."

Of course Louis had teased him, but if he were honest, the idea was nothing but lovely and so typically Harry. Louis could imagine them flipping through the pages years from now, pointing at photos and laughing about the memories they had made together.

"You'll get your picture, baby," he assured Harry, voice firm. He knew he overused nicknames -- he tended to do so whenever Harry was upset.

"I'm not gonna put a picture of her in my album," Harry growled, and Louis knew his anger was back. He had calmed down temporarily, but the reminder of what lay ahead of them had boiled up Harry's rage again.

"Don't be childish now," Louis said calmly, fingers steady in Harry's hair. He closed his eyes when Harry only shook his head. It was all so wrong, all so very fucked up. 

Eighteen, Harry was only eighteen -- still a child. He was allowed to be childish, and he was allowed to act immature. Yet he was expected to always act calm and collected, all composed and grown-up in front of the world.

It was a heartless world, Louis thought and tightened his arms around Harry's shoulders.

They both knew that in the end, Harry wouldn't have a choice; he would have to accompany them and watch Louis hold someone else's hand. He would have to put on a smile for everyone else to see and pretend like he didn't care.

There was nothing they could do about it.

Harry started shaking in Louis' arms, fingers digging into his waist, holding on so tightly -- as if it would help and save him from the pain and the agony.

It was a heartless world, and Louis was afraid he wouldn't be strong enough to save Harry from it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading :) ♥


	10. Games

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At least we get to play "Spot The Couple". An all-time favourite game. 
> 
> Enjoy the read :) ♥

It was a game that just never got old.

Harry was barely listening to what the interviewer was saying when he looked over at Louis, and immediately found him looking back. Louis quirked his brows, a smirk playing around his lips, and the way he tried to contain it emphasising his cheekbones. It looked wonderful, pretty and Harry wanted to push everyone else out of the way to get to Louis and just kiss him. He wanted to hold him as close as possible, until Louis would giggle into his mouth, bury his fingers in Harry's hair and look at him with that certain sparkle in his eyes.

Liam answered a question and the interviewer focussed on him, while at least four cameras were pointed at all of them. Harry tried to pay attention, but Louis just wouldn't look away. He held Harry’s gaze and Harry couldn't help himself. He lowered his look to hide a stupid grin. 

It was a game, a game they had played from the very get go of their career.

From this point, it was basically just a competition for who would be able to get the other one more riled up before the day was over. When in public they would stand close, Harry's hand brushing Louis' when no one was watching, and Louis leaning in closer than necessary when he spoke to a random person right next to Harry. He'd make it a point that their chests would be touching, or his mouth would just be in perfect line of Harry's sight.

They were in the front row of another music show, applauding for the people who hosted and performed, and got on stage to receive their awards. Louis was sitting next to Harry, eyes glued to the stage, but all of his focus was on Harry -- he could tell by the way Louis tangled their fingers secretly, only for a second before he let go again. Harry bumped his knee against Louis' and Louis mirrored the motion, until their legs were pressed flush together from ankle to knee. It was a warm weight against Harry's leg, reassuring and steady.

Apparently, they were never as subtle as Harry thought they were. In the end, they had to separate with someone sitting between them, either Liam or Zayn or Niall -- most times it was even all three of them.

It didn't stop Harry from keeping up the game, though. He didn't have to touch Louis to rile him up, to turn him on and make sure Louis wouldn't be able to keep his mind off what they could be doing.

They would be, soon enough.

And that was the best part about their games. Harry always knew that all the teasing, the heated looks and secret touches weren't empty promises.

It started in the car back to the hotel, Louis by Harry's side again, pressed in close and a hand firm and possessive over Harry's thigh, as his lips brushed over Harry's jaw. He whispered, too quiet for the others to hear and Harry could only answer by winding his arm around Louis' shoulders and pulling him even closer.

In their hotel room, Louis closed the door behind himself and gently tugged Harry closer by his wrist. He never rushed, never lost his patience. They had both learned to be patient.

"You little tease," he murmured against Harry lips, walking him backwards towards the bed. "Just gonna go to bed after the show?"

"It's what I'm doing, isn't it?" Harry shrugged and detached himself from Louis to crawl onto the huge king-sized bed. The sheets were soft and smelled fresh.

Louis followed him, straddling Harry's hips and he simply stayed like that, hands on either side of Harry's head, eyes glued to his face. "I wanted to have you like this all night," he murmured quietly.

Harry smiled, a warm feeling spreading from his belly, and he felt his limbs go pliant. "That was the intention."

"D'you think anyone caught us?"

Harry closed his eyes. "Hm," he mused. "You mean except for the other boys?"

"They know," Louis noted. "That's not the same. I mean, someone who doesn't have a clue." He leaned in and brushed his lips over Harry's forehead. "Would they notice?"

"Not sure," Harry answered and lifted his hands to place them over Louis' waist. "I think people must be blind to miss how much I love you." He paused, searching Louis’ expression for a moment. He didn’t need Louis to say it too. It was written there, all over his face. “They always do.”

"They must have seen through the game," Louis argued. "How do they not?"

Harry arched off the bed slightly to chase Louis' mouth. "They're not really _looking_ , Lou."

"Guess so," Louis mumbled before he allowed Harry to kiss him silent. He framed Harry's face gently, thumbs brushing his cheeks, while his lips were warm and lazy, moving slow over Harry's.

This was the other side of their game. How far could they go before someone actually noticed? Where was the limit? _What_ was the limit? Louis loved to push it, Harry knew that, and he was happy to play along.

They never got caught, and if they were, no one paid enough attention to take it seriously. It was a mystery to Harry, but it kept up the exciting spark of being afraid to get caught. Being caught would get them into trouble, and sometimes Harry wished it would just happen -- that they'd overdo their little game and became too obvious, so they would actually cause trouble.

It would never happen, though.

Louis slowly undressed Harry with soft hands, fingertips easy and light over Harry's skin. He murmured words of affection, voice raspy and breathy, and spent minutes just looking at Harry. It was warm and soft and Harry thought that maybe no one really needed to know. It was just theirs. 

This would stay behind closed doors and inside private walls. Here, they could lay open everything, every look, every touch, every word -- it would be just between the two of them, and it would stay right there.

Outside, the games would be back on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you spot the couple??? ;) 
> 
> Thanks a lot for reading ♥


	11. Light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, this is cheesy. I like cheesy. 
> 
> Enjoy ♥

Louis quietly closed the door behind himself when he came into the room. He was on his toes, trying to be as quiet as possible, carefully locking the door. He peered over his shoulder to keep an eye on the bed as he kicked off his shoes.

A light was on, Harry lying on his stomach facing him, the sheets pushed down and pooling around his waist. His eyes were closed and Louis could see his chest rising with every deep breath he was taking.

Smiling slightly, Louis walked over to the bed, tripping over his own feet and trying to find his balance. He was a little tipsy -- not as pleasantly drunk as he had been just a few hours ago, but still tipsy. The room was warm and the light was dim.

Harry always slept with a light on when he was alone.

He had told Louis when they had moved into the X Factor House together. While everyone else had complained about how they shared a room of five, Harry had kept quiet. He hadn't minded the snoring or the mess. With uncertain eyes, he had confessed to Louis that he couldn't sleep in the dark and felt relieved they shared a room .

"I can sleep in the dark as long as I'm not alone," he had said, shrugging. "It's probably stupid."

That night, they had shared a bed for a first time.

Of course sleeping in the dark wasn't a problem anymore. With their job, they had learned to sleep everywhere and under every condition. In broad daylight, in tiny bed bunks of dark busses, on loud, rocking airplanes and in the backseats of cars driving bumpy roads. 

In hotel rooms, however, Harry always left a light on if he went to bed without Louis. It was a fear he had probably never overcome and Louis loved the feeling he got when he joined Harry and turned off the lights.

It was a feeling that combined every single thing they meant to each other, because there was no one else who would switch off the night light for Harry.

Louis caught himself standing in front of the bed, watching Harry sleep and reminiscing about the past. He swayed a little, his t-shirt in his hand and jeans unbuttoned. Harry's lips parted in a quiet exhale.

Rounding the bed, Louis got rid of his jeans and slid beneath the duvet. He curled up at Harry's back, his lips pressing against the back of Harry's neck, and fine, smooth curls tickling his nose.

"Hm," Harry puffed out sleepily. "Lou."

Louis pulled back and stared at the white smudge he had left behind. He had forgotten about the face paint, too drunk and too tired to wash it off before bed. He'd only have a couple of hours of sleep, anyway. In that case, he better made good use of.

He shifted closer, lining up his hips with Harry's, one hand pressing against Harry's abs. "Four for you."

Harry rolled over and blinked at him. "You look ridiculous."

"That's required for Halloween," Louis pointed out to him, winking.

"How was the party?" Harry's voice was rough and soft, warm vanilla fudge on crunchy chocolate flakes. It was what Harry smelled like.

"Great," Louis answered and pecked his lips. "You should have come."

"Didn't have a good costume," Harry argued. "Next year."

Louis nodded, drawing circles over Harry's sternum. He gently scratched his fingernails over the smooth skin and dropped kisses, light and gentle, on Harry's shoulder.

Harry sighed and nuzzled in closer, nose brushing Louis' chest. "Turn the light off."

Louis felt it pull up the corners of his mouth. " _I wanna feel your love_ ," he added in a singsong.

Harry chuckled and pinched Louis' hip. "Idiot. It's _I wanna be with you_ first."

"Whatever," Louis shrugged and let go of a deep breath, reminding himself to keep his hand moving over Harry's chest. "Not my line, anyway. You get the point, Harold."

"Too tired," Harry rejected him. "And you're too drunk."

"Not drunk." Louis felt his eyelids droop slowly, finding it hard to keep them open. It was warm and Harry was all soft skin and perfect scents of vanilla and chocolate and whatever girly salts he had bathed in.

"Lights, Louis," Harry mumbled tiredly against his neck. His breath tickled, left Louis' skin damp, but he couldn't find it in him to care. One hand in Harry's curls, Louis reached out the other to switch off the light.

It was like turning a switch in his head too -- a second later he was out to the world, sleep pulling him under.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading :)


	12. Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the most self-indulgent thing I have ever written.   
> Bonus points and a prompted ficlet dedicated to the person who gets the TV show they're watching and names the hosts. 
> 
> Have fun :) ♥

Louis frowned at the colourful pictures flicking over the TV screen. A bunch of guys were playing a game of throwing a bowling ball down a lane, onto a ramp that redirected the ball to a field of pins. Liam was next to him on the sofa, Niall was comfortably leaning against Liam’s legs sitting on the floor, and all three of them stared at the ball knocking down a bunch of pins.

The guy who had scored cheered loudly, flashing peace signs.

"That looks fun," Liam pointed out. "Can we go play that, too?"

Kimiko, their interpreter, pointed at the screen and shook her head. She was sitting in a chair, going through a list. "You'd have to be invited."

"How do we get an invitation?" Niall asked.

"From their management," Kimiko explained. "They are singing and dancing idols, like you."

Louis thought about correcting her, but after he had been named a 'singing and dancing idol' about twenty times in the past two days, he decided it would be in vain.

"Like, a boy band?" Liam asked.

Kimiko nodded. "Yes, they are a band. They act and host several TV shows, though."

"Japan is wicked," Niall pointed out, gluing his gaze back to the TV screen.

At that moment, Harry and Zayn came into the room, followed by their second interpreter, a woman named Rie. Louis had been told to add San to the name whenever he talked to them. Kimiko-san, Rie-san. Japan was a very formal and polite place.

"Hey, Haz, look," Louis said and pointed at the TV, as Harry sat down on the armrest of the sofa. He rested his arm on the back and angled his body towards Louis. "They're a boy band and they have their own game show. They're paying the silliest games."

Harry watched the screen for a moment and Zayn joined Niall on the floor. As always when Harry concentrated on something, his brows knit up and his gaze got serious. "Is he running on a conveyer belt and catching balls with a basket on his back?"

Louis nodded, putting his hand to Harry's knee and patting gently. "We should have a show like that."

Laughing, Harry shook his head. "We'd look like idiots."

"They do," Louis said and gestured at the screen. "The audience loves it."

"This is Japan, Lou," Zayn reminded him. "They're different."

"Don't give them ideas," Liam said, still following the happenings on television with a frown. "Management would probably eat up the thought of us hosting a show."

"Reminds me," Harry piped up and looked at Louis. "Rie-san taught me some basic Japanese. Like, counting and stuff."

"Surprise," Louis commented drily. Harry came back from each interview they gave with at least two new words he had learned.

"When we're finished working today, we have to tell everyone _Otsukaresame deshita_. That's like saying 'thank you for working with me' or 'you did a good job'. Nice, isn't it?"

"Okutsu--- what?" Louis tilted his head.

Harry repeated the word for him, looking earnest, and added in explanation, "You don't speak the u and i."

Louis decided to just nod along. He couldn't pick up the language as quickly as Harry could, so he mostly just pretended he remembered any of the words they were taught.

"Boys, the next interview will be all five of you," one of their ADs called from the door. "Follow me, please."

They all got up and Liam and Zayn went ahead, talking about something, while Niall was engaged in a conversation with Rie. Louis was right behind him when Harry held him back, curling slender fingers around Louis' wrist.

"Lou," he said and averted his gaze to the people leaving the room, waiting until they were left alone. "There's something else."

Cheery voices and laughter came from the speakers but Louis fully turned to Harry, ignoring the noises. "What is it?"

"Rie-san also told me that in Japan you are greeted back home," Harry said, thumb brushing over Louis' pulse point.

"Um," Louis frowned. "I'm pretty sure you're greeted back home in England too?"

"No, like--" Harry shook his head. "When you come home from school or work or just shopping. You say _Tadaima_ , and whoever is home greets you back _Okaeri_."

"Okay?" Louis wasn't quite sure where Harry was going with that.

"That's nice, isn't it?" Harry pulled him a little closer, taking a step forwards. "Saying 'I'm back' when you're coming home, and having someone tell you 'Welcome home'."

It was. Louis understood why Harry liked that concept. It was a lovely gesture after all, and Harry was generally lovely, so he liked to do anything lovely. Lovely and Harry -- there wasn’t any difference between the two terms in Louis’ head. 

He lifted his free hand to cup it against Harry's jaw. "Yes, it's nice."

"Can we do that too?" Harry asked. "I think we should do that."

Louis laughed and leaned in, stealing a sweet kiss from Harry’s lips. "You'll forget about that once this trip is over. But until then, sure. Why not?"

Harry pouted. "I'm not going to forget."

Smirking, Louis remained close to Harry, their lips just inches apart. He was about to answer, tease Harry, but drew back when he heard someone clearing their throat. Turning, he saw a short Japanese woman, face bright red and eyes glued to the ground.

He had forgotten about that -- no PDA in Japan, as they had been told. It was ridiculous, but apparently this country couldn't handle two people being affectionate in public.

"Sorry," Louis mumbled and rolled his eyes as he turned back to Harry.

Grinning, Harry squeezed Louis' wrist before he let go and walked ahead.

 

Four months later, Louis was in a hotel in Paris, too tired to go out but too awake to go to bed. A French soap was on and he didn't understand a single word, yet he had been watching for the past forty minutes.

When he heard the door being opened, he turned his head and looked at Harry shrugging off a light jacket.

"I'm back," Harry announced.

Louis smiled and reached out a hand for him from where he was curled up in an enormous armchair. 

"Welcome home."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is #confirmed in my head. Harry loves the "Tadaima" and "Okaeri" concept. 
> 
> Thank you for reading :)


	13. Dance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A very sensitive topic *g* 
> 
> Have funa nd enjoy :) ♥

Harry stopped in the doorway, staring at the sight in front of him.

They hadn’t ever lied when they claimed they couldn't dance. It definitely was true in Harry's case, as well as in Zayn's. They both lacked rhythm and moved quite uncoordinated. Niall _could_ dance, it just looked pretty odd. Harry liked to think it was based in Niall's Irish roots. Liam and Louis were both rather good dancers, though. Liam was capable of quite some moves, and he actually liked to dance too. He was the first one to move when a good song came on.

Louis was different. No one really knew Louis could dance because it was something he didn't do in public. Harry had always guessed that Louis had to be a good dancer, since he had experienced first hand how well Louis could actually move his hips. His suspicion was confirmed after they had moved in together and he had caught Louis dancing through the flat for the first time.

Harry had heard the song from the front door, quietly singing along as he brought the Tesco bag into the living room. When he reached the kitchen, a sight of Louis Tomlinson, dancing and swinging a brush had greeted him.

Harry leaned against the door frame and smirked to himself when Louis dipped his brush into the red paint and rose again, singing along and shaking his hips. He was sporting some very old jogging bottoms, the fabric worn-out and grey. With a roll of his shoulders, he followed the rhythm of the song, his feet shuffling over the ground, making the newspapers they had spread crease. There were red spots all over his black t-shirt and some of the paint had gotten into his hair.

Harry would have to take some time to wash it out later.

The song ended and Louis turned, eyes landing on Harry. He grinned and pointed the brush in Harry's direction. "Weirdo."

"I'm not the one dancing to Lady Gaga in the kitchen," Harry commented.

The next song started, one Harry had added to the playlist. This sound was much rockier, heavy with guitars. Louis lifted a brow. "Gotta make some use of it when an actual pop song comes on."

"That's what you call 'make use' of a song?" Harry detached himself from the door frame and walked over, picking up the brush he had put down before he had headed out to Tesco.

"Fuck off," Louis mumbled. "It's radio music -- made to sing and dance along to."

Harry mused over that for a moment, staring at Louis, his torso stretching when he got to his toes to reach the top of the wall.

"You're like a pop song," he said then, and Louis turned his head to him, frowning.

"I'm what?"

Harry shrugged. "Like a pop song." He extended his arm to brush some paint on Louis' arm. Louis shrieked before he growled and glared at Harry.

"What was that for?"

"I like red on you."

Louis snorted and ran a finger coated in paint over Harry's cheek. "You're so quirky, Styles. What does that even mean? I am a pop song?"

With one tug, Harry pulled Louis against his chest. He dropped his own brush and cupped his hands over Louis' hips, while Louis settled his fingers on Harry's chest. "You're like a pop song. Popular, upbeat, loud." He smirked when Louis drew his brows together. "Can’t get you out of my head."

Louis laughed and brushed his lips against Harry's. "That's ridiculous."

"It's true." Harry closed his eyes and slotted a leg between Louis'. They were pressed together knee to chest now and Harry felt Louis draw a circle over his sternum, tapping one finger over Harry's beating heart. It was a rhythm Harry could follow easily.

For a while, he forgot about the conversation and got lost in their kiss, Louis’ lips soft and warm, his tongue meeting Harry’s in a lazy pace. "Danceable," he added when he remembered, and rolled his hips gently.

Louis gasped before he laughed. "Better dance with me then."

Harry hummed in agreement, a hand running into Louis' hair. He pulled Louis onto the floor and red paint stained their clothes, a cold draught ghosting over their skin from the opened window. Heavy, soulful music spilled from the boxes on the counter.

Harry didn't care. He shoved off the clothes and left red traces on every part of Louis' skin he touched, like a visualisation of it burning up under Harry's lips and hands.The music was a distant hissing in his ears, drowned out by the beat of his heart and the thrusts of Louis' hips.

It was a dance Harry didn't need to learn, didn't need a choreography for, a dance he had mastered to a tee. The moves were easy and slick, practiced and yet new each time. Harry never knew what to expect, but it was always easy to fall into the rhythm and just move.

He only needed Louis to dance along.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So who said they couldn't dance? :) 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! ♥


	14. Clothes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This definitely was an easy one :) 
> 
> Have fun!

"And after that, I saw this jumper at Burberry, but you don't really wear any Burberry," Harry said, pulling another piece of clothing from his bag. "I thought maybe you could make an exception? You would look so good in this one."

"I don't care for the brand," Louis answered, frowning. "As long as it's comfy."

That basically summed up Louis' attitude towards clothes. He didn't care what they looked like, how much they cost or what brand they were, as long as they were comfortable. If it were up to Louis, he would wear nothing but jogging bottoms and jumpers all day and at any occasion.

Unfortunately, Caroline and Harry liked to disagree.

Harry loved shopping, not so much for himself as for others. He brought things back home for his mother, his sister, friends or Louis on a regular basis. Of course he did shop for himself, but what he bought for himself often enough still ended up in Louis' cupboard.

Shopping for clothes had never been a thing Louis enjoyed. Until he had moved away from home, his mother had bought his clothes. She had sometimes come home, showing him a shirt or some jeans, and Louis had always accepted them with a kiss to her cheek. Sometimes, she had dragged him to High Street on a Saturday afternoon, but even then she had picked out the clothes and Louis had just nodded or shaken his head.

After that, he had barely done any clothes shopping at all. Harry took care of that for him, coming back from his sightseeing tours in whatever city they were in, with bags full of clothes for himself and Louis. Athough Louis was smaller than Harry, the clothes often ended up being worn by both of them.

Louis wouldn't have it any other way.

At some point Harry had suggested that Louis could use the time he had to spend with Eleanor to get some clothes shopping done, and Louis had admitted that it wasn't a bad idea. It was hitting two birds with one stone, basically, as he could take care of one chore while he was at the other anyway.

However, that had made his dates with Eleanor even more annoying, so Louis had given up on it after only one attempt. It was probably because shopping with a girl reminded him of how much he actually hated it.

"It's pink," Louis pointed out now, gesturing at the jumper in Harry's hand.

"Coral," Harry corrected him. "It suits the colour of your eyes."

"I can't believe you just said that," Louis shook his head, suppressing a smile. "You sap."

Harry flopped down next to Louis on their bed. With big eyes, he gave Louis a pleading look. "At least try it on."

Rolling his eyes, Louis turned onto his side to face Harry. "Whatever. If you think it's so great, I'll wear it."

Harry beamed at him. "Wanna see what I bought for myself?"

"Apart from the coat?" Louis lifted a brow. He glanced at the dark blue coat Harry had neatly folded over one of the chairs. "Because I did notice you didn't actually leave the house in that one."

"Got something apart from the coat," Harry agreed and reached into his bag, pulling out a box.

"Shoes?" Louis asked.

Opening the box, Harry smirked at Louis. "Shoes."

Louis stared at the boots and couldn't help the snort that escaped him. He took one out of the box and turned it in his hand. "Harry, you bought glitter boots."

"Aren't they the cool?"

"Actually, no. They aren't," Louis told him, putting the shoe back. "It's weird."

Harry pulled a face. "Heeey," he complained.

Louis pinched his waist and smiled at Harry, snuggling in closer to him. "You're gonna look like a wannabe Cinderella."

"Why _wannabe_?" Harry frowned and curled an arm around Louis' waist.

Snorting, Louis shook his head. "You're so quirky. Why do I even put up with you?"

"Because, if I am Cinderella," Harry answered, in a serious voice, "then you are Princey."

" _Princey_?" Louis repeated, voice high-pitched and incredulous. "Come again?"

Harry smirked, pressing a kiss to Louis' lips. "You'll see. Can't avoid fate, Lou." He shrugged, expression helpless. "If you find a glitter boot on the stairs tomorrow morning, you will have to look for its owner."

"Oh God," Louis groaned, closing his eyes. "You're ridiculous."

"And still got my prince," Harry reminded him, squeezing in closer.

Louis laughed, disarmed by Harry's charm, and let Harry hold him for a little longer.

He had no doubt he would trip over a glitter boot sometime soon. Harry would definitely go through with it.

Since Harry went out shopping for him and kept Louis dressed, though, he decided that playing along to Harry's ridiculous games wasn't that much of a hardship.

 

Backstage at _Saturday Night Live_ , Louis frowned when he walked into their dressing room and found Harry sitting on a chair, one leg propped up and foot bare. The other one was stuck in one of the glitter boots Harry had bought a week ago.

"What's that about?" Louis frowned.

"You spoiled the fun, Lou," Harry complained, pouting. "Obviously, you didn't--"

His words were cut short when they heard Niall swear loudly from the corridor. He came into the room, face knitted up in confusion and the other boot in his hand. "Why exactly are you leaving your boot lying on the floor, Styles? I tripped over it."

Louis looked from Niall to Harry and rolled his eyes. "Really, Haz?"

"Now Niall's gonna be my prince," Harry pointed out. "Well done, Lou."

"Does that mean I have to put that on your foot for you?" Niall asked, gesturing to Harry's propped up leg. He sounded a little disgusted.

"No," Louis exclaimed. He snuck the boot from Niall's hand. "I'll do that."

"Technically," Harry started, but Louis silenced him with a look.

"Technically, I am _Princey_ , and all of them are my minions. One of them finding the shoe equals me finding it," Louis glanced at Niall briefly, making sure he wouldn't argue. 

Niall just shrugged and walked out of the room again.

Harry smirked at Louis from where he was seated, a happy sparkle in his eyes. "I see. In that case." He pointed at his foot. "If you may."

Louis slid on the boot, then angled his body towards Harry and kissed his lips. "Perfect fit," he commented.

"Perfect," Harry agreed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Those boots had to make an appearance! I couldn't help myself! 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading :) ♥


	15. Obvious

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today's a special one again! Liam's POV :) 
> 
> Have fun and I hope you'll like it!

Something was different.

Harry and Louis had been on a different level from the very first day they had been put together as a band, but it hadn't been quite like this. It was as though the connection between them had suddenly magnified, their bond becoming tighter, stronger.

Liam couldn't exactly point it out, but there definitely was a difference.

All of them had been close from the beginning, not minding each other in their space, their boundaries had just naturally overlapped. Liam had never before shared a bed with a guy, but he hadn't felt a single bit uncomfortable when he had suddenly found himself squished between Niall and Louis on a single bed.

Up to this point, they all had shared a bed with each other, and yet it was different with Harry and Louis. Liam had woken up to the sight of them squeezed into one bed bunk on the X Factor house countless times.

Ever since the X Factor had been over and they started to seriously work as a band, the difference in how Harry and Louis gravitated towards each other had been outstanding. Harry was always glued to Louis' side, leaning into him. He had done that before, had always sought out Louis' presence, but it was different now.

Louis was gentler, and Harry was going more easily. He complied to every of Louis' words or moves and Louis always paid special attention to Harry.

It was obvious something had happened. Something had changed between them.

"I don't think I feel so good," Harry said from next to Liam, taking a deep breath. His eyes were glassy and his voice slurred. "I might be feeling sick."

Liam frowned at him, rubbing a hand over Harry's back. "Mate, you want some water?"

"Dunno," Harry replied. He swayed and rubbed his eyes.

"It's certainly not another beer for you," Zayn commented from Liam's other side.

Louis got up from the sofa across from them, where he and Niall had looked at the magazine they had picked up at Tesco earlier. It had a first proper article about them as a band published, and none of them could believe papers were actually writing about them. They had decided to celebrate it properly. Harry had probably overdone it a little when he had tried to drink as many beers as Niall.

Louis looked concerned, eyes fixed on Harry, as he crouched down in front of him. "Haz, love," he murmured and Harry stilled, his muscles going lax beneath Liam's hand. "You need some fresh air?"

"Hmm," Harry agreed and let Louis pull him up. Louis kept an arm around his waist, and Harry leaned into him, their sides pressed flush together when they left the room.

Liam gazed after them, and only after the door fell closed behind them did he turn back to Niall and Zayn.

"Don't you think they've changed?"

Niall looked up from the magazine. "Harry used to take it better, yeah," he said.

"I don't mean his alcohol tolerance," Liam argued, rolling his eyes. "Those two. Something is different."

"Don't know what you mean, man," Zayn shrugged. He took another swipe of his beer and leaned in to Niall to point at something in the magazine.

Liam frowned, gaze drifting back to the door. He thought about explaining himself further, but maybe he was wrong after all and there really wasn't anything different.

Minutes passed and Liam got a little anxious, fidgeting his fingers and wondering where Louis and Harry had disappeared to. They should have been back a while ago. Maybe Harry was feeling worse than he had looked. What if he had had too many drinks, and had alcohol poisoning? Louis wouldn’t be able to handle that all by himself, would he? 

"I'll just go check on Harry," he said and got up to leave the room.

Outside, he found Louis sitting on the terrace, going through his phone, while Harry had his head in Louis' lap, his eyes closed and breathing even. Louis' free hand was absently cradling through Harry's curls.

In that moment, Liam understood what it was; he grasped what it was that had changed.

It wasn't so much them as it was _Louis_ who had changed. Something had happened between him and Harry that had settled Louis and that made him calm down. Liam used to get into fights with him a lot, but recently that had died down. Louis was still loud and obnoxiously sarcastic at times, but he was taking things more serious now.

As much as Liam wanted to believe that the change was down to all the speeches he had given Louis, he had to admit that the change most likely had been caused by Harry. One touch, one word, one look from him, and Louis complied -- as if it got him back down on earth.

"Is that thing between you and Harry exclusive?" Liam asked, nervously pushing his fringe from his forehead.

Louis looked up from his phone, a tilt to his head. "Why, Liam?" he asked mischievously. "Are you interested in him?"

Liam felt a little calmer when he noticed that although Louis' tone was teasing, like he was joking, his eyes looked cautious and his fingers possessively curled around Harry's upper arm, thumb gently pressing into the fabric of the t-shirt.

"No," Liam said, a small smile tugging on his lips. "It's just kinda obvious there's something going on."

Louis lowered his look, a quick glance at Harry's sleeping face. "If you're here to give me a speech about how we can't be together and that it's gonna have consequences for the band---"

"Is not what I was saying," Liam interrupted. It was lurking in the back of Liam’s mind, because he couldn’t shut out the conclusions his mind jumped to, all the consequences they had to consider. But first and foremost, he looked at two of his friends, two people who were so very dear to him by now. Their well-being always came first for Liam. "It's good, Lou. I think you're good for each other."

Louis' head snapped back up. "What?"

"Don’t get me wrong, I really like you, but," Liam said, cautious of his words, "you can be a little shit sometimes."

Louis lifted a brow, but didn't look insulted. "Well, thank you."

Liam smiled and he crossed his arms in front of his chest, as he leaned against the doorframe. "He makes you a better person, Lou."

For a moment, Louis didn't say a word, averted his gaze again, then he shrugged. "He does," he quietly agreed. 

They both watched Harry in silence, curled up and small by Louis' side, head in Louis' lap and peacefully sleeping. There was nothing more to say, and for the first time, Liam thought that words weren't needed.

He just understood. He understood and didn't need an explanation from any of them. It was all right there in front of him, and he wondered how everyone else could have missed it.

It was glaringly obvious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so very much for reading! ♥


	16. Clouds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is unbetaed, so every typo you find is yours to keep.   
> I'll update the betaed version asap :) 
> 
> Have fun!

It was so much better than getting drunk.

Harry stared up at the ceiling, blinking slowly, his own lashes coming into vision, just a blurry shimmer in front of his eyes. Getting drunk always hyped him up and left him with so much energy to bounce off the walls. At times that was good, was all he really needed at the end of the night, but this was so much nicer.

Getting high always magnified the mood he was in.

If he was tired, a bit of pot would help to relax and fall asleep. If he was happy, he would feel as if he could embrace the whole world. If he was horny, every kiss and every touch felt just so much better, tickled his skin, left his lips prickling.

The yacht was rocking gently with the waves beneath them, afternoon sun tickling through the windows. Harry had lain on deck for hours, relaxing in the sun, napping and watching the other boys go for a swim or jet off on fancy motorsport boats.

They were sitting in the lounge, and it was quiet. Harry had only had a drag yet, but he already felt a pleasant buzz in his bones, a slick rush in his veins. Liam was saying something and Niall was laughing. Zayn held the spliff, watching them with a fond smile and Harry smiled back at him.

Fingers curled around his ankle then, and Harry turned his face, sprawled out on the huge crème white sofa. He wore nothing but his swimming trunks and his skin felt heated up from the warm Miami sun. Louis had draped himself over the other end of the sofa, and shifted towards Harry's body, his fingers running up Harry's calf.

Harry sighed in content, watching Louis crawling closer. He let his arms fall to his sides when Louis straddled his hips and rested his head on Harry's chest. His skin was cool, still a little damp from his swim in the ocean.

"Harry," he mumbled. "Cold."

Harry chuckled and lifted his arms, draped them around Louis' back. The denim of Louis' cut-off jeans was rough, rubbing against Harry's thighs and his feet were pressing against Harry's ankles like ice cubes.

"Love you," Harry mumbled, happily. It didn't really make sense, because Louis was heavy on his chest, and draining all the comfortable warmth from Harry's body, but Harry loved him all the same. He was pretty and cuddly, and Harry was the only one Louis sought out warmth from.

It made Harry feel pretty special.

"You saps," Niall commented. "Don't get anything on there. Ya hear me?"

"Hm," Louis answered, before he lifted his head. He rested his chin on Harry's chest and grinned up at him, eyelids drooping, cheeks rosy, hair a beautiful mess that smelled of salt and sea, and his lips a little blue.

Harry smirked back at him. He wanted to start working on making those lips look full and plump, so they would throb with heat. Louis’ collarbones were digging into his sternum, and all Harry could think about was how his _It Is What It Is_ Tattoo was perfectly crowning the butterfly on Harry’s stomach. Just like they had imagined it when they had seen the sketch. 

"Great, Ni," Liam complained. "Now you gave them the idea."

"Zayn," Louis demanded. "Need another drag."

"You know what," Zayn announced and got up from his arm chair. "You can have it. I'll have a nap on deck."

"I'm definitely not staying here," Liam agreed. He pulled up Niall, and after each of them had taken another drag from the spliff, Zayn handed it to Louis. They left the room accompanied by chatter and laughter, definitely a favourite in Harry's ears.

"See you later, boys," he yelled after them, or maybe he just mumbled it. Harry couldn't tell anymore. "Love you too."

Louis watched him with a fond expression and Harry lifted his head off a cushion to kiss his forehead. "And you love me."

"I do," Louis said, wiggling his hips as he pushed himself up on Harry's body. He stole a quick kiss -- too quick, so Harry chased his lips when Louis drew away.

"Wait, babe," Louis murmured quietly, his voice loud in Harry's ears and everything he could hear. He watched Louis take a long drag from the spliff before he sat it aside in an ashtray. Louis crooked his finger, signalling Harry to move closer.

Harry propped himself up on his elbows and lifted his chin, then met Louis' lips in a slick kiss.

Smoke clouds fogged up his lungs and his brain, and Harry felt as if they were rolling slowly into his bones. His fingers idly played with the fabric of Louis' shorts, his hips responding to the gentle rocking of Louis'.

In a daze, Harry sank back onto the cushions, Louis' lips leaving his, only to explore Harry's skin. He breathed in deeply, befogged, clouds in his vision, in his head, and they were only clearing with Louis' touch.

Clearing, until Louis would cloud all of his senses again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading ♥


	17. Taste

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There wasn't even another option for this one. 
> 
> Enjoy ♥

"You should probably add some more oil," Harry advised when the chicken meat wrapped in ham sizzled in the pan.

"It'll be all greasy," Louis complained. He lifted the lid of the pot, water drizzling over the edge and burning up on the hot stove.

"Look, I'll take care of the--"

"No," Louis interrupted Harry, shaking his head. "I'm cooking."

Harry sighed. "But, Lou, it's just--"

"You'll eat this, Styles." Louis turned back and lowered the heat for the potatoes. He took a knife and poked it through one potato to test if it was fully cooked. "I'm almost done anyway."

"I didn't say I wouldn't eat it," Harry said. He felt like Louis should know. "I was only offering help."

"Don't need your help." With rather unskilled moves, Louis turned the meat in the pan and then took the potatoes from the stove. He added butter and a dash of milk before he started to mash them.

Harry watched him in silence from the table. He had set the table for two, and because the occasion proved so very special, Harry had even lit a candle. The other boys were in bed already, probably fast asleep in their room upstairs. The house was quiet, only a few noises coming from the lounge every now and then.

Louis arranged the food on the plates, giving it one last check-over, then he set them on the table and slid onto the chair across from Harry.

"Thank you," Harry said, studying the meal in front of him. “It looks great.”

"Enjoy it," Louis answered. "You won't get another homemade meal from me anytime soon."

"If never," Harry contemplated. "You didn't seem too much in your element."

"It's not exactly fun." Shrugging, Louis cut his meat and Harry copied him. "But it's my mum's best dish. So I thought if anything, I should try that one."

Harry nodded and took the first bite. "It tastes good," he praised Louis, feeling satisfaction at how Louis' face lit up, eyes bright in the dim candle light. "It's really good."

Louis brushed his fringe from his forehead and grinned. "What did you expect, Curly?"

"You said you couldn't cook."

"I only said I didn't like it."

Harry kicked out his foot under the table, nudging Louis'. "You're one of those."

Louis frowned, kicking back gently, before he looped his foot around Harry's ankle. Harry extended his other leg and trapped Louis' foot by crossing his own. "Those?"

"Those people who whine about how they can't do a thing, and in the end they're capable of everything." Harry lifted a brow. "I bet you were one of the people in school who always claimed they failed a test and in the end got an A or B."

Louis laughed, cheeks flushing red. "I definitely wasn't."

Harry hummed, taking another bite. "But this really was your first attempt?"

Louis still didn't look up at him. "Told you it was."

"Why didn't you ever cook before?" Harry gently rubbed his naked toes over Louis' calf, hoping for a reaction.

Louis remained still, gaze glued to his plate while he was eating. "I just never had to."

"I see," Harry answered, dropping the topic. They sat in silence for a moment, before picking up the usual topics, talking about the other contestants, about their vocal training and the other boys.

The meal tasted good -- more than good. Harry hoped it wouldn't be the last time he got to taste a homemade meal from Louis.

 

Later, when everyone else had gone to bed and Harry snuggled up to Louis' side on the sofa, his stomach full, his eyelids drooping. He nuzzled closer and sighed when Louis started to comb his fingers through Harry's hair.

Harry wanted to lift his head and press his lips at the underside of Louis' jaw, taste the skin there and leave a trail of pecks up to Louis' mouth.

It was a little scary, because he had never felt like that before -- especially not for a boy. But with Louis, everything was different and Harry's chest burnt with an ache, an ache to be more than just a friend.

"Should we go to bed?" Louis asked quietly when the ending credits played on the TV screen.

Harry didn't answer, and instead pretended to be asleep, not yet ready to give up the warm and comfortable spot in Louis' arms.

Louis was quiet for a while, his fingers softly scraping Harry's scalp.

"What am I doing?" Harry heard him breathe out. "I even cooked for him."

Harry struggled to keep his heartbeat at an even rate, trying to not give himself away. It was hard, so very hard, because Louis probably felt what Harry was feeling, too.

"Fuck," Louis whispered, his voice sounding a little desperate. He pressed his lips in a gentle kiss to Harry's forehead, lingering for several moments.

Harry didn't stir, didn't dare move. He couldn't open his eyes and build up the courage to face Louis. Yet, he felt a little braver than before. Louis had cooked for him, he thought, butterflies going on a rampage through his stomach. That had to have a meaning.

Harry wanted to believe it did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! :) 
> 
> Also, I was more than a bit upset to find my ficlets uploaded to wattpad by someone claiming this as her work. I contacted their support team and asked for it to be taken down, but I would appreciate you guys report her, if you happen to have an account there. 
> 
> A lot of time and hard work goes into this, so please refrain from stealing it and uploading it somewhere else. That's not very classy. 
> 
> ([X](http://www.wattpad.com/31903299-candy-canes-and-silver-lanes-larry-au))


	18. Date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm lates! It's just a few minutes after midnight here, though! 
> 
> Enjoy :)

It was after midnight when Harry finally came home.

Louis heard the click of the door, quiet and subtle, and if he had been sleeping he would not have been woken up by it.

Since Louis had lain awake, however, he didn't miss the noise and concentrated on the steps that followed, feet shuffling over the carpet. The door to the bedroom was opened and Louis heard Harry sigh in relief before he could actually see him.

"You're still awake," Harry noted, voice barely a whisper.

Louis smiled slightly and shifted under the duvet, watching Harry peel off his coat. He had no idea why Harry was whispering -- it was their flat, and obviously there was no one else but Louis. It was probably unconscious, since they were rarely ever completely alone.

"Been waiting for you," he whispered back.

Harry sat down on the edge of the bed and reached out a hand to brush his fingers through Louis' hair. His eyes looked tired, his cheeks pale and his hair a little greasy. "I missed you."

Sitting up, Louis dipped forwards and lifted a hand to Harry's cheek. "Missed you more."

It was good to have him back, warm and real right in front of Louis. Because they were always together, it had felt strange to go three days without Harry. Text messages and calls just weren't the same -- especially not when Louis knew that Harry had been out parading America's pop princess around his hometown.

"Sorry for being late," Harry murmured, resting his forehead against Louis. "Traffic was heavy."

"I waited," Louis smiled, his thumb rubbing carefully over Harry's bottom lip. "It's a date, right?"

"A date," Harry nodded, closing the gap between them and kissing Louis' lips. They sighed at the same moment, contently sinking against each other and breathing into each other for a second. Then Harry nipped Louis' bottom lip, licked over the flesh.

"You should get some sleep, baby," Louis mused against Harry's lips.

"'m not tired," Harry protested, pulling Louis closer.

"Yes, you are." Louis gently poked a finger into Harry's ribs. "Get changed."

Harry shook his head, breaking the sweet contact of their lips. "I really don't want to sleep. I promised to spend some time with you." He had dark rings under his eyes and his skin was a shade too pale for Louis' liking, which made him look as though even the slightest touch could make him break into pieces. The past few weeks had been hard and straining on both of them.

"You should get a proper rest," Louis argued.

With one slick move, Harry had their lips touching again and eagerly licked into Louis' mouth. His hands were firm on Louis' waist, his intentions clear when his thumbs gently pressed into the skin over Louis' hip bones. "Don't wanna sleep, Lou."

Shifting, Louis made space for Harry to lie down next to him. He had occupied Harry's side of the bed while he had been away. It was easier to fall asleep when he had Harry's scent surrounding him, his presence lingering between the sheets. Although Louis knew that it wasn't physically possible, he was convinced Harry's side of the bed was always warmer.

He pushed Harry's jumper up and over his head, fingers instantly finding the two birds tattooed onto Harry's chest. Louis rested his palm over the left one, his lips devouring Harry's mouth.

Harry moved a hand to Louis' hip, a finger hooking beneath the fabric of Louis' briefs, tugging gently. He mewled in the back of his throat when Louis pulled back, eyes closed, a slight frown drawn between his eyebrows.

"Don't stop, Lou," he demanded, taking a lazy breath.

Louis dipped his head down to nip along Harry's collarbone. "Wasn't planning to," he answered quietly, voice muffled by Harry's skin.

Harry buried a hand in Louis' hair, arching against him. He went lax and placid beneath Louis, fingers stopping on their trail down Louis' back every other moment. Louis lifted his head and watched Harry's face, saw colour had returned to his cheeks, his lips plump and red and eyes closed.

He looked completely relaxed.

Louis shifted up on his body, pressing another kiss to Harry's lips. He smiled, when Harry barely kissed back, and rolled off him, tucking himself against Harry's side.

Harry turned into him immediately. "Don't stop, Lou."

"Wasn't going to," Louis answered in a whisper. He rubbed his nose gently against Harry's and then pulled Harry's head to his shoulder, holding him close.

He caressed Harry's back and listened to him breathing evenly while Louis watched over his sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading and all the kind feedback I received so far! :) ♥


	19. Umbrella

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just Harry being Harry :) 
> 
> Enjoy the read ♥

It was raining when Louis stepped outside. The snow that had fallen a few days ago had melted into soft sleet and eventually, into rain.

He looked up to the sky when he opened his umbrella. Usually, he wouldn't bother with it, but when he had left the house earlier Harry had handed it to him.

"Looks like it's gonna rain," he had said.

"Just gonna use my hood then," Louis had answered, tying his shoelaces.

"Lou," Harry's tone had been insistent. "You'll catch a cold. Take an umbrella."

Unfortunately, Louis wasn't immune to Harry being worried about him -- it always got to him and made him just a little weak. That was why he had taken the umbrella from Harry, thanking him with a kiss, and had been carrying the umbrella all day.

At least it hadn't been all in vain. Now that it was raining, Louis could at least use it.

The rain was falling heavily, drumming on top of the see-through vinyl of the umbrella. Louis’ feet were soaked already, his shoes drenched with rain water, heavy on his legs. If Harry had been with him, he'd have an extra pair of socks for Louis to change into once they reached the car.

Like this, Louis had to drive all the way home with wet feet and he'd take a hot shower to warm up again. Since their world tour was kicking off in only one month, Louis couldn't afford to get sick. He grinned at the thought of coming home drenched from shoulders to feet -- it guaranteed Harry joining his shower.

Louis startled a little when his phone went off in his pocket. He pulled it out and answered without an actual greeting. "It's raining."

"I noticed," Harry answered. "My feet are soaked."

Frowning, Louis fumbled for his car keys in the pocket of his jacket. "Why are you outside? Didn't you want to stay in?"

"Just made a quick run to Tesco," Harry explained. "I'm on my way back now."

"Me too," Louis agreed.

"And I am all alone under my umbrella."

Laughing, Louis turned the handle in his hand, and rain drops splashed from the vinyl onto the street, mixing with the falling rain. "I'm all alone under my umbrella too."

For a moment, Harry was quiet, then he said, "It's a bit as if we were sharing an umbrella, isn't it?"

"You're hopeless, Haz," Louis told him.

"It's just occurred to me that we have not yet shared an umbrella," Harry noted.

"That's because the concept sounds much better than it actually works," Louis reminded him. "Shoulders bumping, narrow space and all."

"Size difference," Harry added. "I'd hold the umbrella for you, Lou."

"You sap."

"What?" Harry asked, sounding offended. "You're obviously too short to hold it for both of us."

"Shut up." Louis reached his car where he had parked it in a small back street. It was always easier leaving your car a bit off the city centre, especially when he didn't want to be recognised. He stopped in front of it and opened the driver's door. "Listen, baby. I'm at my car now. Have to hang up, yeah?"

"Okay," Harry answered, tone light again. "I'll run a bath."

"Sounds like a plan." Louis smiled to himself, putting the bags into the back of the car. "See you in ten."

Harry hummed and hung up, while Louis kept standing in front of his car, umbrella over his head and the rain pouring down on him.

The house would probably smell of scented candles when he'd come home. Harry loved to light up candles when he took a bath. Louis didn't mind, as long as no one but Harry knew he bathed in rosy oils and with dim candlelight.

Closing the umbrella, Louis slid into the driver's seat and shut the door.

 _I’d hold the umbrella for you_ , it echoed in his head and he smirked slightly to himself, the radio playing a soft tune, a song that reminded him of Harry.

One day they would walk down the street on a rainy day, side by side, shoulders bumping.

And Harry would hold an umbrella over their heads.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!!


	20. Fixed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's Zayn's POV! 
> 
> Have fun :)

"Zayn," Niall whined when he came into the lounge of the tour bus.

Zayn looked up from his book, adjusting the glasses on his nose. He frowned slightly. A moment ago, he had been just seconds away from drifting into sleep. He couldn't even tell what had happened in the last three pages he had read.

"What?" Zayn asked, closing the book, marking the page with one finger.

Niall plopped down next to him on the huge sofa, ruffling his own hair. "They're fighting. And I can't stand it."

Zayn sighed, putting the book aside. He didn't have to ask who this was about. "Did you talk to them?"

"Of course!" Niall crossed his legs and shrugged. "Harry is sulking, not talking to me. And Louis is snappy. It's scary."

Giggling, Zayn got up from the sofa. The ground felt a little unsteady beneath his feet, and he thought he might never get used life in a bus. "I'll go check on them."

"Harry's in the back, Lou's in his bunk." Niall pointed at the big screen across the sofa. "I expect them to join us watching a movie and be all snugly and touchy with each other."

Zayn hummed. "Where's Li?"

"Kitchen, getting crisps and drinks."

Nodding, Zayn left the lounge and made his way to the part of the bus they had their bunks in. Louis' curtain was closed and Zayn knocked against the frame, waiting for a reaction.

"Fuck off."

Zayn rolled his eyes and opened the curtain anyway. "We're watching a movie. You're coming?"

Louis rolled over, glaring at Zayn. "I'm not exactly in the mood, mate."

"What's up?" Zayn asked. "Trouble in paradise?"

For a moment, Louis was silent, as if he were actually thinking about his word choice. "Harry's an idiot."

"Nothing new there," Zayn agreed. He sat down on the edge of the mattress and put his elbows on his knees. "Usually you find that more endearing than annoying."

"He's on the phone to Grimshaw," Louis explained -- and that was all he really needed to say. That bloke was a very sensitive topic between Harry and Louis.

"And that's a problem?" Zayn asked.

"He's calling into the Breakfast Show for some prank they play on Kesha?" Louis frowned as if he couldn't quite follow his own thoughts. "That prick is using him for publicity. I don't like it."

"It's not the first time, though," Zayn considered.

"Even worse," Louis added. "Harry just doesn't get it, and when I tell him, he even defends that guy."

Zayn thought about his reply for a second. Any wrong word could make Louis lose it. "He's old enough to pick who he wants to hang out with, don't you think?"

"I'm just looking after him," Louis objected. "I'm not telling him who to be friends with."

"Then leave it be. That he's friends with Nick Grimshaw doesn't really change anything between the two of you, does it?" Zayn gazed at Louis, feeling a little relieved when he saw Louis' expression change.

"No, of course not."

"Tell him," Zayn said. "Don't fight because of something stupid like this."

Louis shrugged and rolled out of the bunk, gripping one of Harry's beanies to put over his hair. "I suppose."

"Okay, go on to the lounge then," Zayn instructed and quickly squeezed Louis' shoulder. "I'll get Harry."

Nodding, Louis trotted off, mumbling “Fucking Nicholas Peter Grimshaw” under his breath. Zayn shook his head before he made his way to the back lounge, finding Harry on one of the leather benches, gazing outside at the passing road.

"Hey, Haz," he said. "We're watching a movie. You in?"

Harry turned to him, and his eyes were a little red, phone clutched in his hand. Zayn knew not to comment on the fact that he had obviously cried a little. There was no room for words -- all of them just understood. It all got a little too much sometimes. For Harry, it got too much when he didn't have Louis on his side.

"Does Louis join?" Harry simply asked.

Zayn smiled. Although Niall really was the baby of the group, Harry had his moments too. He was the youngest after all, and in moments like this one, that shone through clearly. He could get very insecure and he depended on Louis like on the air he breathed.

"He already went ahead."

“Is he still very mad?” Harry asked quietly. 

“I talked to him,” Zayn avoided the question. “He’ll come around.” 

Harry bit his lip, then he got up and followed Zayn out of the room. His steps were quiet behind Zayn and before they reached the lounge, Zayn looked at Harry over his shoulder, making sure he was okay.

Harry gave him a tight-lipped smile.

In the lounge, Niall had already put the DVD on and Liam sat next to him, both sprawled out with a bowl of crisps between them. Zayn went over to take the seat next to Liam. Louis had curled up on the other side of the sofa and Zayn saw him nervously glance at Harry.

Liam lifted a brow when Zayn sat down next to him and Zayn just shrugged. He had tried his best.

They tried to ignore Harry and Louis sitting stiffly next to each other and staring up at the screen. Zayn could tell by the way Niall pointed out all the obvious jokes in the movie, and Liam glanced at them way too obviously every now and then.

After twenty minutes, Louis finally gave up and crawled into Harry's space, draped himself over Harry and rested his head on Harry's shoulder. Harry went pliant, winding an arm around Louis' middle, his other hand reaching out to lace his fingers with Louis'.

Zayn felt Liam relax beside him, and while Louis whispered something into Harry's ear and Harry closed his eyes, nuzzling his nose against Louis' beanie, Zayn felt himself relax too.

That was the problem with Harry and Louis fighting -- it affected all of them. None of them wanted to take a side, but if those fights got really serious, they were forced to. That was hard on all of them; not just on Niall, Liam and Zayn, but also on Harry and Louis.

It wasn't always easy, but seeing them lean against each other now, holding on tightly, Zayn had to admit to himself that it was worth it.

He'd always try to fix them, over and over again, if he had to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so very much for reading ♥


	21. Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I noticed there hasn't been any smut yet. Sorry I'm rubbish! 
> 
> Enjoy :)

Harry just needed ten minutes. That was all he was asking for.

If he had been greedy, he would have asked for an hour, a day, a fucking week -- but he wasn't greedy, so he just asked for ten minutes.

Ten minutes to be alone with Louis.

Sighing, he looked over at Niall who played a game on his PSP. Everyone else had left, and Harry couldn't understand -- just couldn't grasp -- why Niall was still in the room with them. There were still twenty minutes left until their next interview. Plenty of time. He only had to get rid of Niall.

"Liam's outside kicking a few balls," Harry said, hand high on Louis' thigh. That was most likely a lie, since Harry had no idea where Liam was off to. But if the prospect of a round of footie wouldn't get Niall to leave, Harry didn't know what would.

Niall looked up briefly, putting his PSP aside. "Maybe I'll go join him."

"You should," Harry encouraged him.

"Footie?" Louis asked, lifting his head. Harry had thought he had been napping.

"Liam's playing alone, apparently," Niall confirmed and got up from the floor. "Wanna join?"

"Deffo," Louis answered. He angled his body towards Harry to kiss his cheek and got up to follow Niall out of the room.

Harry threw his head back and closed his eyes, letting go of a strangled groan.

 

They were rushed from backstage to the vans behind the venue and Harry blinked in confusion when he Zayn squeezed in next to him. Niall slid in across from them, and the door was shut, the van driving off.

Harry would have liked Louis by his side, but he'd see him in the hotel -- that was soon enough.  
It didn't matter how early they had to get up in the morning, Harry would take his time to spread Louis out on the big hotel bed and spend hours devouring his body.

He drummed his fingers against his thigh, staring out of the window. Still buzzing with energy from their gig, Harry couldn't wait for them to arrive, for Louis to be back by his side. These days were so busy, going by so quickly, and Harry's fingers were itching with the need to touch Louis and have him all to himself.

"You alright, mate?" Zayn asked.

Harry glanced at him, smiling quickly. "Sure."

They arrived just a few minutes later and in the parking garage, Harry hopped out of the van, watching Liam and Louis leave the other one.

Louis instantly started for Harry, folded himself into Harry's side, which made it quite difficult to walk for Harry, but they somehow made it to the lift. Louis' head was heavy on Harry's shoulder, but his body was warm and pliant and Harry could picture him taking whatever Harry was willing to give.

Just a few minutes and he'd have Louis all to himself.

When they reached the room, Louis detached himself from Harry and stumbled over to the bed. He stripped off his t-shirt and shoved off his blue trousers before he fell onto the mattress, snuggling up to the pillow.

Harry watched him, smiled lightly and followed. He breathed a kiss to Louis' bare shoulder, fingers light over the dip of his waist. Louis hummed in appreciation, wiggling his hips a little. Harry pressed against him, resting a hand over Louis' bum, a finger slipping beneath the black fabric of his shorts.

When Louis didn't react anymore, Harry lifted his head and frowned.

"Babe?" he asked quietly, but Louis didn't answer. His breathing was even, his eyes closed, and his skin turning cooler by the minute.

Harry rested his forehead between Louis' shoulder blades, before he lifted the duvet and spread it over both their bodies. He cuddled up to Louis' back and tried not to think of how Louis' bum pressed back against crotch.

 

"Haz---"

They were finally alone, all by themselves in a bathroom. As soon as the door had fallen shut behind them, Harry had crowded into Louis' space, drawing him into a kiss.

Louis gasped when Harry pressed the heel of his hand between Louis' legs, his breath getting caught, eyes wide.

"Ten minutes," Harry demanded, lips latching onto Louis' neck, sucking over his pulsing vein. "Just fucking give me ten minutes."

Louis slumped back against the wall and his fingers slid up into Harry's curls. It was the most amazing feeling of all -- Harry loved the feeling of Louis' hands messing up his hair. He wanted them right there when he would suck Louis off.

"Harry," Louis breathed. "They'll walk in on us any minute."

"Have to be quick then." Without further ado, Harry dropped to his knees and unbuttoned Louis' trousers and placed an open-mouthed kiss over his filling dick. Louis' fingers tensed. Harry closed his eyes and shoved the fabric out of the way, swallowing Louis down.

They had to be quick, Harry knew that. They'd have a signing in less than ten minutes, but if he didn't get to make Louis' come, he would probably do it right there in front of those people, on the table.

Harry couldn't breathe, was too riled up to grasp a single thought. Louis' cock was full and thick, heavy on his tongue and throbbing. Louis pressed a finger against Harry's cheek and their gazes met for a split moment.

Harry pulled off and licked his lips before he ducked down again, swallowing around Louis' cock.  
It didn't take long before Louis came, spilling down Harry's throat. Harry pulled back, took as much as he could, but some still ran down his chin, dripping to the floor. Louis pulled him up and his hand slid down the front of Harry's jeans before he could even take a breath. They kissed, messily and hot, and Harry came into Louis' fist without a warning.

Afterwards, they leaned heavily against each other, Louis breathing into Harry's neck.  
"Feeling better?" Louis asked.

Harry nodded lazily, swallowing thickly and licking his lips. He could still taste Louis on his tongue and that knowledge finally settled him.

"Next time," Harry mumbled into the crook of Louis' neck. "We'll need a bit more time. To do it properly."

"Proper blowjob, that," Louis disagreed.

"Proper fuck next time," Harry promised.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading :)


	22. Divorce

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was written before that false tweet of harry's made the round! Debunking rumours by fanfiction! Wohooo! 
> 
> Have fun :)

"I was thinking about getting a haircut," Harry said thoughtfully.

Louis glanced up at him. He was playing FIFA against Zayn, and close to winning. They were in their Mystery Machine, trying to fight back the jetlag. Liam and Niall had lost the fight, were out in their bed bunks on their tour bus. Louis had taken Harry with him because he hadn’t wanted him to be left out. He was sitting in Louis' seat, curled into himself, watching them.

"Where does that thought come from?" Louis asked.

"It's gotten quite long," Harry answered.

"Just tie it back then," Louis suggested, looking back at the screen.

"I could just ask Louise to do it tomorrow."

Sighing, Louis put down the controller. This required his whole attention. Zayn made a protesting noise, but didn't say anything. He pressed Pause instead, and got up to get a bottle of coke from the fridge.

"When you say a haircut, you do mean a trim, don't you?"

Harry frowned, his temple leaning against the armrest of the seat. He had his knees drawn to his chest, and his eyelids were drooping. "No, I was thinking about a proper cut."

"It that the jetlag speaking?" Louis lifted a brow. "Because you're obviously out of your mind."

Harry smiled lazily. "It's gotten so long, Lou," he complained. "Always in the way."

That definitely wasn't an argument. Those curls were just long enough for Louis to properly bury his hands in them. "As I said, tie it back."

"You've seen me with a tail. It's ridiculous," Harry snorted. "Louise is going to kill me."

"And I'm going to kill you, if you lose more than two inches of the curls."

"It's his hair, Lou," Zayn piped in.

Louis turned around to him, pointing a finger. "No one asked you, Malik."

Zayn lifted his hands and shrugged.

"He's right, though," Harry noted.

Giving Zayn one last glare, Louis turned back to Harry. "I think I have a say in that."

"You're allowed to make suggestions. I'll make the decisions," Harry pointed out and sat up, stretching his limbs.

Louis growled, standing up and stepping right in front of Harry. "Listen. If you cut those curls, I'll get a divorce."

For a moment, Harry only stared up at Louis, eyes wide, and blinking dumbly. "A divorce?"

"Exactly," Louis confirmed. Zayn giggled from behind them.

Harry still didn't answer, just gazed up at Louis, his eyes suddenly looking wide awake, expression open.

"So you," he finally said, "think of me as your husband?"

Louis contemplated that for a second, but decided that there was no use in amending the statement now. "Obviously."

A goofy grin bloomed on Harry's face, eyes bright and happy, dimples on full display. Louis couldn't help but reach out and bury his fingers in Harry's curls. Pulling him in, Harry nuzzled his cheek against Louis' chest.

"I think of you as my husband, too," he mumbled, arms warm and firm around Louis's waist.

Louis pressed his kiss to the top of Harry's head, smiling to himself.

"I guess I could get creative to keep my hair out of my sight," Harry admitted.

"I'm sure you could," Louis agreed.

They were quiet for a bit, holding each other.

"Well," Zayn said and cleared his throat. "Now that you've cleared that up, can we get back to the game? I'm pretty close to beating you."

Louis detached himself from Harry, growling. "Dream on." He winked at Harry and sat down to his feet, sliding in between Harry's legs before he got back onto the game.

Harry’s fingers curled into Louis’ hair and he smiled to himself, satisfied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Louis would never let Harry cut his hair. Hm... this is probably not the point of this ficlet.... 
> 
> Thanks a bunch for taking your time :) ♥


	23. Pulse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tooth-aching sweet fluff ahead. 
> 
> Enjoy it! ♥

Harry felt his pulse race, pounding in his ears, throbbing in his fingers, out of control.

When he had been on stage for the first time, his heart had been beating loudly, and his pulse had picked up so much speed, he had felt sick. When they had put him through to Judges’ Houses with the boys, Harry's heart had been so full of happiness and joy that he had thought it would beat right out of his chest.

This was different. It was rapid and three times as intense, making Harry's knees weak and his vision blurry.

Louis gasped for air, pressing a hand to his chest and looking at Harry with crinkled, sparkling eyes.

Harry wanted to tell him -- that Louis was the most beautiful Harry had ever seen, that his laugh was contagious and his eyes bluer than the summer sky. He wanted Louis to know that he had the most soothing voice, and the funniest stories to tell. Harry wanted to listen to him every second of every day.

Harry couldn’t help it. It just slipped out. 

"You're doing funny things to my heart," he said, feeling a little breathless.

Louis fell silent, blinking at Harry. "What?"

"My heart," Harry repeated. "It races."

Suddenly, the room was silent. It had been quiet before, only filled with Louis' laughter. Harry loved his laughter and he felt nervous, a little cold, now that it was gone. He shouldn’t have said anything to make Louis' laughter stop.

Louis scooted closer, close enough for Harry to smell his hair and skin, another thing Harry definitely had to add to the list of why Louis was the most beautiful.

"Why does it race?" Louis asked quietly.

Harry wanted to avoid it. How was he supposed to tell Louis? Louis probably wouldn't be amused if he found out that Harry's cheeks were burning whenever Louis was this close. He couldn't avoid it, though. Not anymore, after he had started off with that confession.

"Because you're so pretty when you laugh?" Harry knew it sounded like a question. He shouldn't say it like a question. "You really are," he added.

Louis brushed his fringe out of his view. Harry wanted to reach out and push it right back over Louis' forehead and eyes. "That makes your heart race?"

"And your voice," Harry added. His gaze dropped to Louis' lips and he couldn't look away.

"My voice?" Louis' lips tugged up into a smile. "Nothing special there."

"Really special," Harry disagreed. "Your voice, and everything you say."

It felt a little surreal when Louis' hand came to rest against Harry's cheek. "Harry--"

"And your eyes," Harry rushed the words out. Now that he had started, he wanted to say it all before he lost the courage. "Your eyes are really pretty. I like your hair unstyled -- I want to touch it all the time. I want to touch your skin too, and kiss you. Fuck, Lou, I think I really want to kiss you."

"You think?" Louis' voice was barely a breath, his eyes wide, staring at Harry.

"I do," Harry choked out. He shouldn't have said that, shouldn't have said a thing. Louis would probably never talk to him again. Why couldn't Harry just shut his mouth? Why was he still talking? "I can't stop thinking about it?"

"You wear your heart on your sleeve, don't you?" Louis asked. His tone was gentle, and he didn't look intrigued at all. He even looked a bit indifferent. How could he be indifferent, when Harry had just confessed that he wanted to kiss Louis?

Harry's pulse threatened to fade out any moment now.

"Hey," Louis said gently, and all of a sudden, he was very close, his thumb softly rubbing over Harry's cheek.

Harry's breath got caught, his eyes felt dry, tearing up, because he couldn't even blink.

Leaning in, Louis brushed his lips against Harry's. He drew back again, lashes fluttering when he looked back at Harry's eyes.

His heart skipped a beat. Harry was sure it had skipped one. As many times as he had thought in his life that his heart had stopped -- it hadn't. Nothing had ever messed up his heart rate as this short swipe of lips had.

Had Louis just brushed a kiss to Harry's lips?

Louis smiled, framing Harry's face. He was in Harry's space now, closer than before, close enough so Harry could have counted his lashes. Harry stared into Louis' blue orbs, wide-eyed. Maybe Harry should be counting his lashes.

"Harry," Louis murmured.

Blinking, Harry came out of his stupor and drew in a breath.

"Hi," Louis said with a smirk.

"Hi," Harry said back.

Another smile, and Louis dipped his head, covering Harry's lips with his own. They were warm, a little dry, but soft. Harry closed his eyes and Louis pulled him closer. 

“I want to kiss you too,” Louis murmured against Harry’s lips, and -- obviously, Louis wanted that. He had just kissed Harry and Harry couldn’t grasp any other thought, his head spinning. 

“I want to do it again,” Louis added, gaze locking with Harry’s. 

“Go ahead,” Harry allowed, tilting his head. 

Louis came easily. 

And Harry's pulse started to beat out of control.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading ♥


	24. More

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I almost forgot to upload my ficlet today! Christmas Eve!! Louis' birthday :)) 
> 
> Have fun! ♥

Harry quietly opened the door, peeking into the room. It was quiet and still a little dark, although the clock was almost ten in the morning. The sun hadn't come out; it probably wouldn't for the rest of the day.

Louis lay in their bed, face buried in the pillow, hair dishevelled from sleep, chest covered by a worn-out grey t-shirt that had once belonged to Harry. He breathed evenly, still fast asleep, and the duvet was pooled around his waist.

They had been living together for a year, would throw their first big party for New Year's in a week. Harry couldn't think of anything more perfect than this, living with Louis and waking up next to him every morning. Coming home from a long promo trip to _their_ flat.

On his toes, Harry entered the room and put down the tray on the night stand. He sat down on the edge of the bed and leaned in, brushing his fingers through Louis' hair.

"Hey," he murmured quietly, kissing Louis' temple. "Birthday boy."

Louis stirred, lashes fluttering and lips curling into a smile.

"I made breakfast," Harry whispered. "Full British. And tea," he added.

"Perfect," Louis grunted. His voice was sleep-soft and raspy, his eyes still closed.

"I try," Harry commented cheekily.

"No need to," Louis mumbled. He rolled over so he lay on his back and could look up at Harry. "Morning, love."

"Morning," Harry greeted back, reaching out to touch Louis' cheek. "Happy Birthday."

"I heard something about breakfast?" Louis struggled to prop himself up on his elbows.

Smiling, Harry crawled up the bed to sit next to Louis. He leaned in to brush a kiss to his lips before he reached out for the tray and put it onto Louis's lap. "I think you did."

"I love you," Louis told him, picking up a toast. "What more do you have planned for today?"

Harry grinned and sneaked a slice of apple from Louis' plate. "Birthday sex," he answered.

Rolling his eyes, Louis handed Harry the mug of tea after he had taken a sip himself. "Obviously. But, like, presents?" He munched around baked beans and toast, watching Harry questioningly.

"I may have presents for you," Harry admitted. "One or two."

"And exactly why aren't they here for me to unwrap them?"

Harry chuckled, angling his body closer to Louis'. "It's breakfast first. And birthday sex after that."

"I'm rather sure there could be some presents unwrapping in between there." Louis finished his breakfast and set the tray aside, turning to Harry. "At least one?"

Harry smirked and pulled the collar of his t-shirt with one finger. "I know something you could unwrap."

"Pervert," Louis teased Harry, mock-appalled. His fingers slipped beneath Harry's t-shirt all the same, caressed the skin beneath. "Guess I have to take what I can get, then."

"Anything you want," Harry breathed, dipping his head forwards to catch Louis' lips in a gentle kiss. For a while, they stayed like that, lazily exchanging kisses before Harry pulled Louis' t-shirt over his head, ducking down again to kiss along Louis' jaw.

"Harry," Louis sighed and buried his fingers in Harry's hair, tugging gently. "More."

Harry smirked, one finger drawing circles over Louis' belly, sliding down to the waistband of the boxer briefs. Louis hissed, bucking up and going pliant after, as Harry slid a leg between his.

Warm hands moved over hot skin, dreamy words were exchanged in hushed whispers, and slick kisses, all tongue and teeth, set feverish lips on fire. Louis groaned, lips forming nothing but gibberish and Harry panted into the crook of Louis' neck, grinding against him.

The first time Louis came, his cock hit the back of Harry's throat, and two of Harry's fingers were stretching him open. He gasped for breath, eyes glassy and hazed.

"Okay?" Harry asked, voice raspy, watching Louis intensely.

"More," Louis demanded, pulling Harry into a kiss by his hair.

When Louis came the second time, Harry met his prostate in a deep thrust, making Louis shout and writhe beneath him. Harry followed seconds later, spilling inside of Louis, collapsing onto his chest.

"Happy Birthday," Harry repeated, cheek squashed against Louis' sternum.

Louis twirled a curl around his finger, his other hand lazily stroking up and down Harry's back. "Happy Birthday to me, indeed."

Harry built up the energy to lift his head and look at Louis. "There's more."

Louis smiled, eyes shining in a warm summer ocean blue. "There's always more," he said, still a little out of breath. "There's always more with you, Haz."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To those of you celebrating Christmas Eve, Happy Christmas! ♥ 
> 
> Grand Finale is coming tomorrow ;) 
> 
> Thanks a bunch for reading!


	25. Cheat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!! 
> 
> (also, this is unbeta'ed. And a little late.... oh well. It's Christmas. I was busy stuffing myself and playing with kids and... stuffing myself. And drinking. Weee!)

"Harry!"

Louis stumbled into the kitchen, dressed in comfortable jogging bottoms and a jumper that was loose on his body, sleeves too long and hem rolled up over his thighs.

Harry stood by the stove, an apple in his hand, munching and talking to his mother who turned around to Louis and gave him a warm smile. Harry had his legs crossed and had been watching the vegetables simmer in a pot, but all of his attention focused on Louis, as he came into the room.

"What's wrong, love?" Anne asked.

"Your daughter is wrong!" Louis growled. He came over and Harry reached out an arm, for Louis to slot against his side and wind his arms around Harry's waist. "She's cheating."

"You can't cheat in scrabble, Lou," Harry reminded him.

"Excuse me, sweetcheeks, but just because you're too innocent to ever cheat, doesn't mean others are above it." Louis raised a brow, a cocky grin stretched over his face. He looked rosy and relaxed, the dark circles beneath his eyes gone. "And I'll let you know your sister isn't."

"Gemma's always been the best scrabble player in this house," Anne said, opening the oven. "You won't take that spot from her after two years, Louis. You'll need to work a little harder."

"Not trying to take anyone's spot. Just want a fair game." Pouting, Louis looked up at Harry, and Harry shrugged his shoulders. His mother had a point.

"You're the biggest cheater in this family, just to remind you," Gemma yelled from the living room.

Harry detached himself from Louis, kissing his forehead quickly, before he took another slice of apple and walked out of the kitchen. "I'll take her on for you, love. To preserve your honour."

In the living room, Gemma was lying on the sofa, flipping through a magazine. She looked up when she spotted Harry. "Not gonna play another round, bugger," she told him.

"I'm not really in the mood anyway," Harry shrugged and nudged her feet with his knee until she budged over. He sat down next to her, throwing one leg over her lap. "Is Robin taking a nap?"

Gemma nodded, putting the magazine down. "He's all stressed out just thinking about Christmas dinner tomorrow."

Chuckling, Harry offered her a half of his apple slice, which she happily accepted. "It's a shame Louis can't stay."

"We're throwing an early Christmas dinner for him on his birthday," Gemma pointed out. "I think that should compensate it."

Harry bit his lip, looking at her. "Is it a problem for you guys? It's just---"

"I know what it's like, Harry," Gemma reminded him, voice firm. "And Mum and I suggested this, so stop worrying."

"Yeah," Harry breathed, nodding. "I want him to spend at least one normal Christmas."

Gemma hummed in agreement. "He's family now. It's a given."

Beaming, Harry leaned in to kiss her cheek. "He'd go beet-red, if you told him that."

"That's why I don't." Gemma leaned into him, snuggling close. "His head's already big enough."

Harry chuckled, and closed his eyes, sinking into the familiarity of his sister's warmth for a little while. She probably didn't admit it but she loved Louis, even if they pretended to be fighting all the time. Harry had never thought that he could feel this happy from only that knowledge.

Gemma fell asleep after a while and Harry gently detached himself from her, wandering back to the kitchen.

Louis and his mother talked in hushed voices and Harry stopped in front of the door, out of sight for both of them.

"You really didn't have to do this, Anne, you know," Louis said.

"I wanted to, love." Harry imagined his mother giving Louis one of her reassuring smiles.

For a moment, Louis was quiet, then he quietly told her, "I appreciate it a lot, you know. It's not that I don't love my family, but---" he stopped and Harry knew it wasn't easy for Louis to say those words. "Christmas with them feels a bit like a charade."

Something clinked, and then Anne's soft voice followed. "I'm really sorry you have to go through that, baby."

"I wish I could just stay here with you," Louis admitted, his voice muffled -- a clear indicator that Anne was hugging him. "It's so much easier."

"Louis," Harry's mother answered, voice keen. "I don't want to hear such words. Your mother is already missing enough of you as it is."

"I know."

"It's as hard on her as it is on you," Anne added. "She's lying to her daughters for you, and don't ever think it's easy on her."

Louis exhaled deeply. Harry wanted to rush in and scoop him up into his arms, hide him away from the world. There were some things, though, that only mothers could handle. So Harry kept leaning against the wall outside, waiting.

"It's just as hard on me, Anne," Louis reminded her. "I'm lying to my sisters."

"It's better for them, Lou," Anne murmured, almost too low for Harry to catch it. "I wish none of it had to be done, though."

It was quiet again, then Louis said, "Thanks, Anne. For having Christmas a day early, just for me."

"It's your birthday, baby," Anne reminded him. "And if you want a proper Christmas dinner for your birthday, that's what you'll get."

Louis chuckled. A weight was lifted off Harry's heart, like a tight clenching fist loosening its grip. "That was Harry's wish, actually."

"His way of creating the perfect birthday gift for you," Anne commented, her tone much lighter too. "Now go and get Gem and Harry. Dinner's ready."

Harry reckoned it was okay to intrude now. Both of them had said what had been needed to be said. He waited another two seconds, before he entered the kitchen. He almost bumped into Louis who was on his way out.

"Careful," Louis demanded, lifting a hand to Harry's chest. "Don't run me over."

Harry smiled at him, shaking his head and burying his hands in his pockets to keep from pulling Louis in and just holding him close for a minute. That would probably tell Louis Harry had been eavesdropping.

"I'm hungry," Harry said. "Better don't get in the way between me and my food."

"Did you make these mince pies?" Louis asked, pointing at the oven.

"Maybe."

"Don't _maybe_ me, Harry," Louis poked a finger into his chest. "Did you?"

"Lou, you asked me a million times to make mince pies for your birthday." Harry rolled his eyes. "Do you really think I'd just let my mum make them?"

Louis grinned. "Just making sure you're not cheating by claiming you made them when you really haven't."

Harry gave Louis a gentle shove. "I'd never cheat."

Louis grinned, and blinked at Harry before he left the kitchen to get Gemma and Robin.

When Harry turned, he looked at his mother, returning her smile.

 

"You got everything?" Harry asked as they stood outside.

It was windy and cold, but there had been no snow and for December, it really wasn't cold enough.

"Got everything," Louis confirmed.

"And you're sure you don't want to stay a little longer?"

Louis lifted a brow. "Stay with your awful sister while you're out catching up with friends? No, really thank you."

"I wish you could just come with me to the pub," Harry sighed.

"Yeah, I don't," Louis disagreed. "I see your face every day. I could really use a break from that."

"You're impossible," Harry complained, stepping closer to Louis and angling his chest towards him. "How dare you?"

Louis laughed and his smirk turned into a gentle smile. He reached up to frame Harry's face, which made Harry want to melt into him until each part of Harry would touch Louis. Getting to his toes, Louis kissed Harry, brief and soft.

"You're like one of these, Haz," he said, tracing a finger over Harry's collarbone, over the left bird. "Always with me."

Harry smiled, leaning his forehead against Louis'. "I am."

Nodding, Louis entangled his other hand from Harry's hair and stepped back. "Have fun with your friends."

"Drive safely," Harry replied, watching Louis sliding into the driver's seat of his car.

"I'll send a text when I'm in London," Louis promised, after he had let down the window.

"I'll see you in a few." Harry bent down to the window, putting his hands on the frame. "Say hello to your mum and the girls."

Louis smiled weakly, shrugging. "Will do."

"Hey," Harry murmured. "I can come down, if you need me to."

"No, you can't," Louis frowned. "That's the whole issue there, Harold."

"Yeah, it is," Harry agreed. He reached out a hand to brush Louis' fringe from his forehead. "One day you won't have to lie anymore. I promise."

Louis only stared at him for a moment, then he shook his head, smiling a little bitterly. "You're the biggest cheater of them all."

Harry blinked. "What?"

"You're cheating, because you always find out what's going on in my head," Louis explained. "It's not fair."

Leaning forwards, Harry kissed him. "Sue me."

Louis didn't laugh, instead, he stared at Harry with an intense look in his eyes. "I love you, you know."

"I know," Harry replied. "I love you too."

"Thanks for..." Louis made a vague gesture with his hand at the house, "All this."

Harry shook his head. "Anything for you."

"I'll call," Louis simply stated, before he fastened his belt and shut the window, waving at Harry once more.

Harry gazed after the car, watched it disappear down the street, even stared ahead when he couldn't see it anymore.

 _Anything for you_ , he repeated in his head, and turned to get back inside.

It wasn't just a line, wasn't just a cliché. When it came to Louis, Harry would do anything he could to see him happy. Even just for one day.

Even if that meant Harry had to cheat a little.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope all of you spend a lovely Christmas, wherever you are in the world!
> 
> Thank you so very much for reading, it's been a lot of fun on my side! :)  
> ♥♥♥

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading :) 
> 
> Come talk to me on [Tumblr](http://sadamenoito.tumblr.com/), if you'd like!


End file.
